


Duvet Days and Vanilla Ice Cream

by JamieJam93



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: And one more instance of sexual assault (but not rape) in adulthood, Closeted Characters, Homophobia, M/M, Mentioned past sexual abuse of a minor, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder tendencies, That is the big one and I'm not planning on getting too detailed but it's there, drug and alcohol abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 97,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieJam93/pseuds/JamieJam93
Summary: After helping Liam Payne rise to fame, former child star Zayn is met with life circumstances that cause him to fall from the height of his own career. Liam, who also happens to be Zayn's former flame, decides to help him get it back but has no idea what he's trying to save Zayn from. In the mean time, old feelings surface for the pair, and Zayn realizes that pain and fear weren't the only emotions he'd blocked out to protect himself.





	1. Slow

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, another story from me with another tortured soul XD I can't help it, I have a theme.
> 
> I'm also going to be lame and title the chapters with songs by the boys (particularly Liam, Zayn, or 1D) that these chapters remind me of. 
> 
> ***Trigger warnings!!!!***
> 
> If you didn't read my tags, that might be a good thing to do if you have certain triggers. I didn't use the archive warnings because I didn't want to portray this as a story completely based on those things, or make the reader think I'm diving into explicit details of the triggering scenes, but if you'd like more information on what is going to be discussed in this story, feel free to email me at jamiebrennan01@outlook.com. I don't check my email often, though, so you may want to comment and tell me you sent an email. You can comment anonymously.

            Zayn was starting to think he’d gotten all dressed up for nothing. Sure, it was important to look good for the few PR photos that would be taken and posted by his manager on the social media accounts he was rarely allowed to use, but that was achievable enough with an adequate hairstyle, designer jacket, and fitted jeans. Pleasing his fans really didn’t take much, it seemed. Thanks to the power of filters and photoshop, they were all under the impression that he was much more attractive than he actually was; not that Zayn didn’t like how he looked in real life because he was happy with what he saw in the mirror, but he wasn’t some god-like creature that could charm the pants off everyone he met when he was behind the camera.

            Besides, Zayn’s fans weren’t the ones he was trying to impress that night. They would have no way of knowing, after all, that he’d waxed and shaved everything to perfection-everything except his beard, which he was wearing a bit fuller than he normally liked because he remembered _him_ once saying how much he liked it. His fans didn’t know that he’d specifically selected undergarments that outlined his treasures better than the rest, or that the underwear he was wearing just happened to be in _his_ favorite color.

            It brought amusement to Zayn’s life to think about how his fans would react if they knew that the condoms they could see outlined in his back pocket weren’t for some lady he was planning to sweep off her feet (before ultimately leaving her heartbroken, of course, since being a ‘heartbreaker’ was part of Zayn’s Hollywood persona) were actually going to be used with Liam Payne, America’s sweetheart that wasn’t even from America.

            The amusement didn’t last, however, when the night passed on and he didn’t show up. He knew the other man had been invited because the entirety of the music, modeling, and acting business seemed to be at this stupid New Year’s Eve party of whom Zayn didn’t even know the host or hostess, but two hours went by with no trace of the man. Zayn could have just missed him, he supposed, as the eight thousand square foot mansion was packed, but he didn’t think so. He’d walked the mansion three times over without seeing a single hair on the other man’s head. While it was tempting to text him and ask if he would be attending, Zayn didn’t want to appear desperate, so he refrained.

            Finally, just as Zayn had finished taking the necessary amount of press photos with all the right people and was getting ready to leave, he saw Liam walk through the door. He was glad that it was too loud for anyone, even himself, to hear the gasp that came from him, and he quickly turned around, grabbing a glass of champagne from the nearest cart and sipping on it. Instantly, his body warmed, though he knew it likely had nothing to do with the drink.

            By the time Zayn turned back around, Liam and his date-his ‘current girlfriend’ who just so happened to be ‘Zayn’s ex-girlfriend-’ had disappeared, but Zayn didn’t panic. He knew how these things went. Liam and his lady friend had to say hello to their publicly known acquaintances as well as the higher-ups in the industry, get some pictures and sweet talk their way to a positive news story and then they would be able to relax, whatever that meant. The important thing was, Liam was there, and in an hour or so, Zayn was planning to have him all alone in a room upstairs.

            It took well over an hour for Zayn to catch sight of Liam again. That was a lot of time for anxiously drinking champagne, and Zayn was just slightly past tipsy when he spotted Liam alone by the bar, but he knew he would be fine. It took quite a bit for Zayn to lose control. One time he’d been so drunk that he’d nearly gotten alcohol poisoning, yet his friends hadn’t even been aware that he’d had more than a couple drinks.

            After glancing in the nearest mirror and fixing his hair, which, to be honest, had barely moved the entire night thanks to all the hairspray, Zayn straightened his posture, lifted his head, and walked over to Liam slowly, but with a purpose.

            Liam was just finishing pouring himself a drink when Zayn stopped behind him. The other turned and startled when he saw him standing so close, but his shocked expression quickly turned to a smile. Zayn, however, narrowed his eyes.

            “I heard you’re dating my girlfriend,” he accused. Liam giggled-truly giggled, which almost made Zayn crack-but he sobered quickly and, looking Zayn up and down, said,

            “ _Ex-_ girlfriend, and I’m sorry about your loss, but I think she wanted to be with someone who likes to look at her more than he likes looking in the mirror.”

            Zayn laughed and took a drink of champagne as he pondered his retaliation. When nothing came to mind, he said,

            “I like looking at _you_ more than I like looking in the mirror. Specifically, I liked looking at you in the mirror on the ceiling above our bed in Bali.”

            Liam’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating as immediate arousal coursed through him.

            “Fuck,” he said.

            “That’s my goal,” Zayn told him. Liam shook his head, then leaned down slightly to speak in Zayn’s ear, knowing what the feeling of his breath on his skin did to him.

            “Sometimes I think the media has it wrong, but it’s true, Malik; you are a bad, bad boy.”

            “Maybe, but you’re no British-American sweetheart, doll face,” Zayn said, patting Liam’s cheek lightly. “See you upstairs in ten minutes.”

             It took Liam more than ten minutes to get up the stairs, or at least to find the correct bedroom. Of course, Zayn made sure to make him pay, and began to put his shoes on when he heard Liam walking into the room.

            “You took too long,” Zayn said in response to the perplexed expression on Liam’s face. “I took care of things myself.”

            Call him sadistic, but Zayn loved the way Liam’s mouth slacked open and regret filled his eyes.

            “I got stuck talking,” he said defensively. Zayn shrugged.

             “Well, if chatting with snooty rich folk was more important, then I don’t know what to tell you, mate,” Zayn said, and began to go around Liam but, as he’d hoped, the other grabbed his wrist tightly; not too tight to hurt, but enough to put him in a position of dominance.

            “If you already took care of everything, then what’s that?” he asked.

            “What’s what?” Zayn questioned, and then gasped when Liam groped him through his jeans.

            “That,” he said, a smirk on his face.

            “I had you going for a minute,” Zayn said, his eyes fluttering shut and a small whine following his words as Liam began kissing his neck.

            “Not a minute,” Liam said, licking the spot where he’d just sucked a bruise. “Maybe about thirty seconds, tops.”

            “Tops? You wanna top?”

            “Fuck yeah I want to top. You can’t expect to come here looking all hot with those jeans on that make your ass look like Heaven and your beard just the way I adore, and think I’m going to bottom.”

            “What if I wanted to top this time?” Zayn asked, all the while allowing Liam to guide him to the bed and lay him down.

            “You can; after me,” Liam allowed, taking Zayn’s shoes off and tossing them across the room. Zayn smiled, knowing that Liam was aware that he was giving him a hard time. Zayn wasn’t as ‘vain’ as the media painted him out to be, but he did quite enjoy how easily he could get to Liam.

            When all was said and done, Zayn didn’t need to top. He never needed to with the things Liam did for him (although he still did, sometimes). After both had finished and were properly satisfied, they laid, still undressed, in the bed; Zayn on his back with Liam on his side, facing Zayn with his arm draped over his lover’s middle.

            “What time’s it?” Liam asked after a good few minutes of silence. Zayn turned his head just enough to see the clock on the table.

            “Twelve-fifteen,” he answered.

            “Oh. Happy New Year, I guess.”

            “Yes, it was a happy New Year indeed.”

            Liam whined as Zayn snaked his way out of his grip and started putting his shirt on after picking it up from the floor.

            “You think they would notice if we just crashed here tonight?” he asked.

            “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure your beard is probably looking for you so you can take a cheesy kissing picture and post a cheesy caption about how amazing last year was because it brought you two together but this year will be even better and you can’t wait to see what all the universe has in store for your relationship.”

            “But I don’t want to kiss her and post a stupid fucking picture and I don’t want to see what this year has in store for us unless it’s the end,” Liam said, his pout evident in his voice. Zayn had stood to put his underwear back on, but before he could find his jeans, Liam grabbed his wrist again and gently pulled him back to the bed. Zayn straddled Liam, his hands running over the other’s toned abs and chest.

            “You were my first kiss this year,” Liam commented, massaging the inside of Zayn’s thigh.

            “And your only kiss this year, so far,” Zayn pointed out.

            “We could keep it that way,” Liam said. “Or, at least, you could be the only person I kiss that isn’t for the cameras and truly means something this year, and next year, and maybe forever.”

            “Li, don’t do this,” Zayn sighed, moving to get up, but Liam held onto him.

            “No, don’t go yet,” he begged. “I know you don’t want to be boyfriends, but I just don’t understand why.”

            “We’ve had this conversation. We’re both in the closet.”

            “Yeah, but we wouldn’t be the first gay famous couple to hide our relationship.”

            “I know that, but I’m not a good actor when I don’t have a script, Liam. It’s easy for me to pretend you’re my mortal enemy who is stealing all my fans and my girlfriend when there aren’t emotions involved. If we get together…if I ended up falling in love with you…I don’t think I could do it. It could ruin you and me. Besides, I’m tired. It’s taking everything I have to keep up the façade I’ve got going right now. If I add another layer of lies on top of it, I think I’ll crack.”

            “So you’re not lying to _yourself_? You don’t feel anything for me?”

            “Oh, baby, I feel something for you.”

            “That’s not what I meant,” Liam said with a roll of his eyes.

            “I enjoy spending time with you, Liam, and not only when we’re having sex. Bali was great. Italy was fun. Going incognito in London was a blast. But I was so scared the entire time that we would be busted, and it’s just not worth it.”

            Those words hurt Liam, Zayn could tell, and he felt a little guilty about it, but he wasn’t sure why. He’d told Liam this before-that they were good friends with great benefits-but that they wouldn’t ever be anything more. Zayn had been in the limelight from the time he was small-first as a model, then as an actor, and, finally, as a singer-and so this life was all he knew. Liam knew he could survive regular life. He’d just broken out onto the scene five years ago at age nineteen which was still young, but not so young that he’d forgotten what being a ‘normal’ person was like.

            “I’m sorry,” Zayn said, “but it’s not like I’ve ever led you on or made you think this was going to be something it’s not.”

            “I know,” Liam said. He sighed, then smiled, though it wasn’t genuine. “I was just hoping you’d changed your mind.”

            “Nah. New year, same me,” Zayn told him.

            “Guess I can’t blame you,” Liam said. “You are pretty perfect.”

            Zayn laughed.

            “The toilet is down the hall if you need to get rid of some of that shit you’re full of.”

            Finally, a true grin spread across Liam’s face, and he promptly picked up the pillow from beside of him and smacked Zayn in the face with it. Zayn laughed and attempted once again to get off Liam. He was half hoping the other would stop him again so they could go for round two, but he didn’t.

            Zayn went down to re-join the party before Liam did, so as not to raise suspicions. As he reached the bottom floor, he came face-to-face with Gianna, the model he’d been ‘dating’ for nearly eight months last year. She’d certainly moved on to Liam quickly, Zayn thought, even for a press relationship. Still, he had nothing against the woman. He wouldn’t call the two of them ‘friends,’ but they were friendly enough with each other.

            “Oh, hey,” Gianna said with a smile. “Have you seen Liam?”

            “No, I was just looking for him myself,” Zayn said. “I’m gonna have to fight him for stealing my woman.”

            The model laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulders.

            “Well, you know if you hadn’t been flirting with that mysterious girl in the club…”

            “Sorry, I just can’t control myself when I’m in the presence of a beautiful woman.”

            Gianna laughed and shook her head.

            “I’m sorry that’s the story they chose to spread.”

            “Eh, it’s alright, I guess,” Zayn said. “Not the first time.”

            Again, the woman shook her head and patted Zayn’s arm.  

            “Well, I need to go find Liam and make sure he didn’t pass out in a shower again,” she said.

            “America’s Sweetheart at his finest, eh?” Zayn teased.

            “You’ve no idea,” Gianna said with another laugh.

            _Oh yes, I do,_ Zayn said, smiling fondly as he remembered Liam getting wine drunk and trying to steal a gondola to take Zayn on a ‘romantic ride down the river’ while they were in Italy. Later, he’d literally collapsed in the middle of walking and Zayn had to carry him all the way back to the hotel. He still sometimes gave Liam hell for it, and swore to never tell him that he had smiled the whole way there.

            “Have a good night, Zayn!” Gianna said, briefly rubbing her ex-fake-boyfriend’s arm. “Oh, and happy New Year!”

            “Happy New Year,” Zayn returned.

            When Zayn sat down in the taxi he’d called to take him home, the alcohol suddenly hit him strong. It was hard to even hold his eyes open, and the driver of the cab kept shooting worried glances into the rearview mirror, like he expected Zayn to completely pass out or be sick in his vehicle. He made it home, though, and to his couch before collapsing. He hadn’t thought he’d fallen asleep, but the way he startled when his phone vibrated next to his head suggested otherwise. Opening his eyes, he had to squint and push on one eyelid to make out who the message was from and what it said.

            _Sorry I made things awkward earlier,_ Liam had told him. _You know how I can get when I drink, haha._

 _It’s ok,_ Zayn replied, and was half asleep when the phone’s vibration made him jump once again. Wiping drool from his mouth, he read,

            _Do you want to come over, no strings attached? I know we’re not ever going to be anything real…I just want a cuddle buddy tonight._

 _I am much too drunk to go out again tonight,_ Zayn said, and he thought he’d made a few typos that even autocorrect couldn’t save him from, further proving his case.

            _Oh…ok. Good night, then,_ Liam said. After only a moment’s hesitation, Zayn told him,

            _You can come over here though, if you really want._

It took Liam a while to reply. In fact, Zayn wasn’t even sure he did reply, but, suddenly, there was someone kissing his forehead and giggling before scooping him up.

            “Huh? Wha?” Zayn gasped, and Liam laughed again.

            “Sh, it’s just me,” he said.

            “How’d you get here?”

            “Taxi…and then I got in because I have a key, remember?”

            “Oh, yeah.”

            Liam had stayed with Zayn in his Beverly Hills home for a couple months at the beginning of his career when he was trying to make the cross from overseas. Once he’d found a place of his own, Zayn had told him he could keep the key since the apartment he’d rented out was dodgy and he may find he needed to find shelter at a safe place. Liam had laughed and called him a snob, and then they made love on the pool table.

            “Were you this drunk at the party?” Liam questioned as he headed upstairs, still holding Zayn like he was a bride.

            “Yeah,” he said. “Just fully hit me when I sat down, though.”

            “Hot mess,” Liam teased.

            “I’m hot, definitely.”

            “Oi.”

            Liam laid Zayn onto his own bed and then carefully undressed him. Zayn’s eyes were closed but he was still fully present when Liam laid down beside him in only his boxers and kissed the back of his neck.

            “Zayn?”

            “Yeah?”

            “I still really want to be friends with you. You’ve helped me so much in my career and in my life in general…but I think we need to stop the sexual relations. It’s starting to mean different things to us, which isn’t your fault or mine. It is what it is, but I think we should stop now before anyone gets more hurt.”

            _More_ hurt; Zayn had hurt him. Of course, he’d already suspected as much, but the confirmation formed a lump in his throat that he quickly swallowed down.

            “Yeah, sure, Liam,” he said, hoping his thick voice could be mistaken as coming from his state of intoxication. “Whatever needs to happen.”

            “Thank you, and we can still be friends, right?”

            “Yeah…‘course.’”

            “Cool. Thanks, Z.”

            Liam snuggled against Zayn, burying his head against the back of his neck, and sighed as his muscles relaxed. Zayn, however, was suddenly wide awake, choking back tears. Why did it matter so much if he and Liam never had sex again? Yeah, it was exceptionally good sex, but there were plenty of other people Zayn could sleep with. There was no need to cry about this.

            Luckily, Liam seemed not to notice his sudden wave of emotion and Zayn quickly became too tired to carry on.

            He fell asleep dreaming of Bali and woke to his spare key in an envelope, slipped under the door after Liam had locked up after himself.

           

           


	2. Wrong

            As carefully as he kept his secret guarded; giving up potential relationships or good nights with gorgeous people he couldn’t trust, the truth still came out anyway. It was Zayn’s fault because apparently, he wasn’t as good a judge of character as he’d thought, and that made it all worse.

            After that last night they’d spent together on New Year’s, Zayn rarely saw or heard from Liam. The other would reply if he sent him a text; after all, they were still ‘friends,’ but when they saw each other at press events or award shows, Liam would offer a smile with a polite ‘how are you doing’ before moving on. He didn’t sneak away from his seat to sit next to Zayn when the cameras weren’t on them. There were no more trips to the toilet for a quick make-out session. Of course, Liam had told him that there wouldn’t be, but Zayn hadn’t fully believed him. They always had a great time together. Surely Liam would miss it as much as Zayn.

            Then Liam began dating some C-list horror movie actor and it was like Zayn had been hit by a semi. The public didn’t know about the love affair, of course, but everyone within the Hollywood circle did. It had been bad hearing about it, but Zayn had not been prepared to see the two at a St. Patricks’ Day party, cuddled up, kissing, and giggling. He had never imagined such strong, intense, and, quite frankly, frightening jealousy running through his veins and straight to his core.

            His first instinct had been to go up and interrupt the little love session, but he decided that was probably a bad idea, as he could barely see straight even though he’d only had two drinks at that point. Instead, he quickly went to the kitchen for two more, and he was holding both when he turned and almost ran-literally-into another party goer.

            “Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to get around the other man, but he stepped in front of Zayn, preventing him from getting away.

            “It’s okay. Are one of those for me?”

            “No, but here you go anyway.”

            “Thanks.”

            The other man accepted the drink that Zayn hadn’t been offering and took a sip, never removing his eyes from Zayn’s face.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look like we’re at a funeral, not a party.”

            “It’s nothing,” Zayn said, but his face must have betrayed him when Liam and his beau walked into the kitchen holding hands because the stranger followed Zayn’s gaze and then nodded to himself.

            “You’re cuter anyway. Don’t worry about it,” he said, causing Zayn’s entire body to jolt.

            “How did you know?!”

            That, Zayn realized, was probably the dumbest way he could have possibly reacted, but he’d always felt like his true sexuality was written all over his face. Whenever he met someone new, he felt as if he could read their mind and all they were thinking while looking at him was _gay, gay, gay_.

“I didn’t know,” the stranger answered, giving an ornery smile. “I was just hoping.”

            “If you tell anyone, I’m going to deny it,” Zayn told him.

            “Relax, I’m not going to tell anyone. The only people that should be concerned with your sexuality are you…and hopefully me.”

            The man winked and then extended the hand that wasn’t holding his beverage.

            “I’m Frankie, by the way.”

            Zayn had already known this. Frankie Robles was a quickly rising actor and one of the talented few that somehow had prevented himself from being type-casted. Though he had been in Hollywood for under two years, he had four movies under his belt; one a horror movie, one a romantic comedy, another an action film, and his last a psychological thriller. Zayn had only seen one of his films, but there was no doubting he was good at what he did.

            Similarly, Zayn would bet money on the fact that Frankie knew his name already as well, but he extended his free hand and said,

            “Zayn.”

            “Nice to meet you, Zayn,” Frankie said with a grin as the two briefly shook hands. Quietly, he asked, “So, who are we lusting over? Liam Payne or Thomas Clover?”

            _Thomas Clover._ What an awful name, Zayn thought, although he was self-aware enough to know that he probably would have thought the same no matter what the man was called.

            “You,” Zayn answered, not exactly looking in Frankie’s eyes as he took a sip of his beverage.

            “Me?”

            “Yeah. We’re lusting over you.”

            A wide smile broke across Frankie’s face and he didn’t even bother to try and hide it.

            “I would be honored if you were lusting over me, though I think you are far more attractive,” he said.

            “Nah,” Zayn replied simply, and downed half of his drink. He wasn’t sure if Frankie looked impressed or concerned. Probably, he just found him pathetic.

            Either way, Frankie was in his bed later that night. Zayn told him the same thing he had told Liam time and time again; they were doing this with no strings attached. He didn’t want a boyfriend and he wasn’t planning on coming out of the closet any time soon. Frankie told him that was okay and all he wanted was a good time.

            Then, like Liam, Frankie became too emotionally attached to Zayn to accept a ‘friends with benefits’ type of relationship. Zayn let him down gently, explaining yet again why he felt the way that he did, but that wasn’t good enough for Frankie. Apparently, he’d taken Zayn’s statement of, ‘I love being inside of you’ while the two had been having sex in Zayn’s home studio to mean, ‘I’m in love with you,’ and he did not handle Zayn ‘retracting’ his proclamation of love very well.

            After being told for the second time that they were never going to be in a formal relationship, the actor had called Zayn a variety of undesirable names, told him he was a terrible person and that karma was going to get him, and then left. It hurt Zayn, who never handled conflict very well, and even though he was up half the night having panic attack after panic attack, he never expected what the next couple of days would bring.

            He sent Frankie a text the next day, apologizing for hurting his feelings and saying that he never meant for there to be a miscommunication. Frankie replied with a fresh list of vulgar names for Zayn, and so he stopped trying after that. It was an awful feeling that Zayn only managed to get rid of after drinking an entire bottle of rum, and once he woke up the next morning, he wished it were a hangover making him sick.

            Frankie, whose sexuality had been heavily speculated on from the moment he entered the acting scene, didn’t have much to lose by coming out of the closet, and so he did; pulling Zayn out right along with him by posting a video of the two of them making love on the internet. Zayn hadn’t even known such a thing had existed, and after crying, screaming into his pillow, punching his punching bag, and getting so sick he probably lost five whole pounds in a single day, he gathered his head enough to call his manager, press team, and lawyer. They all assured him they could take Frankie to court for filming such an intimate scene without his knowledge, but that wouldn’t change the fact that the world now knew he was gay, or what faces and sounds Zayn made while having sex with another man. Besides that, Zayn knew he couldn’t prove that he’d no idea Frankie had been recording the act. Suing Frankie wouldn’t stop the nasty comments online or get his dad to talk to him again. It wouldn’t do anything; the damage had been done, and so Zayn declined, letting Frankie win this one to prevent himself from losing another war in court.

            And that was the beginning of Zayn’s transformation into the exact definition of ‘child star gone wrong.’

            Even after flying all the way back to England to literally get on his knees and beg for his father’s forgiveness, Zayn was turned away by the man who had raised him. He offered to go to conversion therapy, said he would never allow himself to give into ‘those thoughts’ again, but it wasn’t good enough. He’d placed shame on his family and there was nothing he could do to take that back.

            While in England, Zayn stayed with his friend Louis and his boyfriend Harry. It was supposed to be a short trip, since everything in him believed-or wanted to believe-that his father would come around after a day or two, but once he realized that wasn’t the case and that the man was preventing his mother and sisters from talking to him as well, Zayn stayed, if only to prove to himself that he wasn’t completely alone.

            Louis had been a child star as well. In fact, Zayn had met him when they were five years old at a modeling gig for a kids’ clothing magazine and from that moment on, they had been inseparable. That was, until Louis had decided to come out as gay and step down from the limelight a few years ago. He moved back to England after living in Beverly Hills with Zayn for a year, where he then met Harry. They fell in love and moved in together and now had a fairly normal life.

            Until recently, Zayn would never have admitted that he was a bit jealous of Louis.

            Now that he didn’t have to worry about anyone discovering his secret-it was still all over the tabloids and gossip sites after there weeks-Zayn decided to live the life that had been deprived of him. He insisted Harry and Louis take him to gay bars and clubs almost every night, which they did, at first. Zayn would get heavily intoxicated, find a lover for the night, and not remember what he looked like the next morning until the pictures were displayed on the internet. Louis was vocal about his concern, but he seemed to understand that this was a normal part of coming to terms with being gay that Zayn hadn’t let himself experience until now and so he went along with it until things got worse.

            A little over a month after his secret had been leaked, Zayn was not only drinking while out at clubs, but he was doing so at home-or, rather, Louis’s home-as well. The final straw was when Zayn started doing drugs. He didn’t see what the big deal was, since they were only party drugs, but after finding Zayn naked, standing in front of the freezer and sucking on an ice cube, Louis gave him the ultimatum of going to therapy and trying to get clean or leaving his house, and so Zayn went back to California, where things only got worse.

            Zayn’s new lifestyle was all part of the public’s knowledge (as well as seemingly everything else about him), and once back in California, he started getting invited to different kinds of parties than he had before. He wanted to say these parties were more fun, except for Liam wasn’t there to sneak away and make love to.

            Liam wasn’t completely absent during Zayn’s downward spiral, however. He’d sent him multiple texts of inspirational value to try and make him feel better, but eventually he must have realized it didn’t work because he stopped for a while. Then, after photos of Zayn being passed out at a bar were put out for the world to see, Liam sent another text; the first in three weeks.

            _Please, Zaynie…this doesn’t have to destroy you. Talk to me, let me help you…XXX_

 _There’s no help for me. Everything is ruined_ , Zayn sent back, rather dramatically, but Liam must have been excited that he’d responded for the first time since his life had gone to hell because he blew up Zayn’s phone after that, his messages coming one right after the other before Zayn could reply.

            _It’s not ruined. Your fans are worried about you, that’s all. They want their Zayn back, it doesn’t matter whether he’s gay, straight, bi, pan, ace…They love you. So many people love you. I’m sorry this happened to you, but you can turn it into something positive and I can help you. Why don’t you stay in tonight? You can come over or I can go over there and we can watch one of the new superhero movies. I’m soooo behind on them…I just made peanut butter brownies! What do you say?_

 _You don’t want to come over here. You have a boyfriend,_ Zayn said. Liam replied,

            _I do want to come over, if you’ll have me._

Reluctant if only for the fact that staying inside made him feel uneasy, Zayn agreed. Liam was usually good at calming the storm inside of him anyway,

In less than thirty minutes, Liam was on his doorstep, and it almost broke Zayn’s heart all over when Liam had to ring the bell and he remembered that he’d given up his key.

            “Hey, mate,” Liam greeted with a small smile. He gave Zayn a quick, one armed hug and then held a Tupperware container full of brownies out in front of him. “I brought dessert, but have you had dinner?”

            Zayn told him that he hadn’t. He never really kept track of when or what he ate anymore. His focus was always on being as drunk and high as possible while remaining alive. The latter information he kept to himself.

            Liam ordered a pizza once he realized Zayn was too inebriated to do so himself. Zayn expertly ignored the chastising look he was giving him; the same look he’d seen on Louis’s face for weeks before the other finally kicked him out.

            Zayn didn’t quite remember what happened between the time Liam ordered the food and when they started eating, but suddenly, the two were on his couch, sloppily shoving pizza into their faces with one of the Iron Man movies playing on the television in front of them. With horror, Zayn took a drink of the vodka sitting in front of him and realized it was water.

            “Ugh,” he said involuntarily, causing Liam to glance at him. “Do you want a drink?” Zayn asked his guest, standing unsteadily and almost knocking the tray in front of him to the ground. Always fast with his reflexes, Liam prevented that tragedy.

            “I’m fine with this, thanks,” Liam said. “Do you not think you’re drunk enough?”

            “I don’t like water,” Zayn claimed.

            “You can have some of the soda I bought,” Liam said. Zayn didn’t remember Liam ordering soda and wondered how he ended up with water if that was the case but decided that wasn’t important.

            “Oh, good. Perfect. Would you like some more?”

            “Sure. Do you need help?”

            “No, I’m perfectly fine! Thanks though, mate.”

            Flashing a confident smile, Zayn turned and headed to the kitchen, mostly walking in a straight line. He filled Liam’s cup up again, but only filled his own a quarter of the way with soda so that he could mix it with vodka. He giggled quietly to himself, feeling like a genius.

            “Thank you,” Liam said, accepting the glass from Zayn once he’d returned. Zayn noticed that Liam had paused the movie for him, which was sweet, even if unnecessary. Zayn had no idea what was going on anyway.

            It didn’t take long for Zayn to black out again. At one point, he’d passed out and woken again to Liam’s hand stroking his cheek. He thought the two talked for a while, Zayn trying to convince Liam that he was fine, before Liam felt confident enough to leave Zayn alone while he went to the bathroom.

            Still feeling tired, Zayn knew he had to wake up in order to prevent Liam from getting worried again, so he headed upstairs to grab his stash of uppers. After venturing to his bedroom and downing a couple of pills, Zayn suddenly felt sick and made a beeline for his bathroom, but he didn’t think he ever made it. He heard himself say ‘oh fuck’ before everything went black.

            A couple hours later, Zayn woke up in the hospital. Liam was still there with him, saying all the right things like he was going to get better, everyone would be there for him, it’s not his fault that he’s hurting, and thank God nothing worse happened. In return, Zayn didn’t say much. He didn’t want to tell Liam that he couldn’t see anything getting better, he’d lost most of the people who were important to him already, getting caught up in this lifestyle absolutely was his fault, and maybe he sort of wished something worse had happened.

            After remaining in the hospital for twenty-four hours to monitor the mild concussion he’d received from hitting his head while passing out, Zayn was sent to a rehabilitation center by his management. The ultimatum had been for him to get treatment or be released from his contract, and while Zayn thought it didn’t matter either way-his career was over-he decided to give the rehab thing a go. In the least, it would be a change of scenery.

            The doctors, nurses, and therapists at the facility helped Zayn off the illegal drugs, only to dose him up on legal ones, which had just as many side effects, and most of them much more unpleasant, in Zayn’s opinion. He went to therapy as he was supposed to and was a model patient. To the outside eye, he was doing better, but it was there that Zayn realized he’d been wrong about what he told Liam before; he was a spectacular actor, even without a script.

            Liam visited a few times during his month-long stay. Zayn didn’t want him to; seeing Liam reminded him of how different things could be if he’d known previously that he could have kept their secret all along. But he still wouldn’t have been enough for Liam, even if the other wasn’t aware. Eventually, Liam would want to have holidays with the families, he would want to get married; maybe have some kids. Those were all events that were harder to hide, and that wouldn’t have been a lifestyle Zayn would have chosen, even if part of him secretly thought it was maybe what he wanted too.

            Of course, being known as a fallen child star who couldn’t handle the fact that he was gay and became hooked on drugs and alcohol to cope wasn’t a lifestyle Zayn ever thought he would choose either and yet here he was.

            After four weeks, Zayn was deemed ‘better’ and released. He was better, he supposed; better than he was, but still not well.

            Louis, who had flown down as soon as he heard what happened, picked Zayn up from rehab and drove him home. He would be staying with Zayn for at least the first couple of nights to make sure he adjusted back to the real world. Zayn told him he didn’t have to, to which Louis replied that he knew, but Zayn didn’t believe he really felt that way. If he didn’t stay, Louis thought, then Zayn would leave rehab and head straight for a bar. It wasn’t true and wouldn’t have been Louis’s fault even if he had, but Louis already had unnecessary guilt for kicking Zayn out. Even though Zayn told him he would have done the same, Louis had replied that he found it hard to believe Zayn would kick him out for anything. He was probably right, if only for the fact that Zayn was lonely.

            Still, being alone in his house would have been better than having Louis there when he didn’t want to be.

            Trying to prove he was alright so that Louis would feel free to go back to England and to his love, Zayn started drowning himself in things besides drugs or alcohol. He would wake up at seven in the morning (which was early for him, thank you) and jog for thirty minutes before coming back to eat a healthy breakfast with a couple glasses of tea. He would shower after that and then lock himself in the studio at his home for a few hours; often forgetting to eat lunch. He would come out at dinner time, eat, and then work out for one to two hours in his home gym before showering again and going to bed. When he was able to sleep, he had strange dreams that made no sense but disturbed him all the same, but since those were visible to no one but himself, Louis finally felt confident enough after a week-and-a-half to go back home. Zayn tried to tell himself that he was happy; that this was what he wanted, but if he were being honest, he could barely remember what happiness was and realized he had no idea what he wanted.

            “Alright, Zayn, we need to get you going on _something_ ,” his manager told him at their meeting one month after Zayn had been released from rehab. “I respect that you needed time to heal, as does the public, but they’re growing bored waiting for you to make a statement, put out a song, make a television appearance, just… _something_.”

            “I’ve been working in the studio,” Zayn told him. “I’ve got a couple songs that are about finished that I think I like.”

            “Great!” the other man said, looking relieved. “When should we release them?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Zayn’s manager sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose as if Zayn were being a petulant child.

            “We kept you on your contract for a reason, Zayn. We know how talented you are. We know you can recover from the train wreck your career has become, but you’ve got to take the first step.”

            “My career isn’t the only thing that’s fallen off the tracks,” Zayn pointed out. “My whole life has been a wreck recently.”

            “And whose fault is that?”

            “Frankie,” Zayn answered initially, but upon the look he received, added, “and mine.”

            “I am sorry for what Frankie did to you,” the man said off-handedly, as if it were merely a formality. In truth, he had no idea what Frankie had actually done to him, but Zayn didn’t say so. “However, you’re letting him win right now. This is what he wanted. Don’t you want to show him you’re not going anywhere? That he can’t keep you down for long? That he’s going to have to see you for the rest of his damn miserable life?”

            _No_ , Zayn thought. He was still furious at Frankie, but if he’d wanted revenge, he would have tried to sue him. What Zayn wanted couldn’t be given back. He wanted his peace, his family, his respect for himself back. He didn’t want to look in the mirror knowing that no matter how much he exercised or how he did his hair or what clothes he wore, it wouldn’t stop him from hating what was reflected back at him because it wasn’t the outside appearance he despised, it was what was inside; who he was. He wanted to be able to shower and feel clean again instead of uselessly trying to scrub away the feeling of vulture claws scratching his back.

            “Sure,” Zayn said, instead of voicing those thoughts out loud.

            “Liam Payne’s new album drops this weekend,” the manager said.

            “Does it?” Zayn asked, trying not to be offended by the fact that Liam hadn’t told him the news himself. Of course, he’d been focused on Zayn’s life recently-everyone had been-and Zayn felt another surge of hatred for himself.

            “It does,” the man confirmed. “Why don’t you go to his album launch party?”

            “Do you really think a party is the best place for me to be seen publicly the first time after rehab?”

            “It won’t be _that_ kind of party. There will be alcohol which of course you won’t touch, and everything will be fine. The public knows that it was Liam who called the ambulance for you that day. The story is that he was concerned for you, being label mates and all, and reached out in your time of need.”

            “I mean, I guess that’s not a lie,” Zayn said, even though that was barely scratching the surface of their story.

            “So wouldn’t it be good for you to support him and his new album since he was so supportive to you?”

            “I’m not saying I don’t want to support him,” Zayn mumbled. “Just didn’t think it would be good for me to be around alcohol yet.”

            “Well there’s a simple solution to that, Zayn; just don’t drink.”

            _Yep, just as simple as that_ , Zayn thought as he fought hard to not roll his eyes.

            “Okay, I’ll go, if Liam wants me there,” Zayn said.

            “It’s not up to Liam. We’ll send a car for you around eight on Thursday.”

 

            _Hey, just warning you; I’ll be at your party Thursday,_ Zayn texted Liam later that evening after he’d gotten home and spent a bit of time with his punching bag.

            _Why is that a warning? Haha, I’m stoked you’ll be there! I wanted to invite you but didn’t know if it was a healthy choice right now. How are you doing?_

 _I’m fine_ , Zayn said, like he did every time Liam asked him the question; almost every other day. _Enough about me though. Why didn’t you tell me your album was coming out?!_

_It kind of snuck up on me if I’m being honest. I feel like just last week I was recording the first song and now here it is._

_Can’t wait to hear it,_ Zayn said.

            _Thanks…and I mean it. Thank you for everything, Z. XXX_

 _Thank you, Li,_ Zayn said. _I never told you that in hospital or in rehab, but really…thanks._

_No need to thank me! I’m just glad you’re back on track. You did the hard work yourself._

Zayn didn’t say so, but he didn’t feel like he’d done anything. He’d stayed clean and sober, yes, but that wasn’t the hard part. He wasn’t addicted to the drugs and alcohol; not really. He was addicted to how the substances made him feel like someone else. Now he was getting his fix in the studio, writing songs about feelings that didn’t belong to him, and in the gym, where he could fool himself into thinking, just for a little bit, that he was strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who came back for chapter 2! Time in the story will slow down now and I promise you will learn more about Zayn and Liam's relationship :)


	3. Polaroid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to delete and re-upload because I realized I'd uploaded the wrong version of this XD I caught it pretty quickly, so I don't know if anyone had started to read it yet, but if so...sorry about that. 
> 
> Anyway, the chapters from here on out (most if not all of them) will start with a flashback, which will be in italics so it can be easily separated from the present when the flashback is over.

            _When Zayn and Louis entered the bar, Zayn almost turned around and walked right back out. He’d been in dive bars before, but none quite like this. The paint was peeling off the walls, there was a suspicious looking stain on the floor in the far-right corner, and the whole place smelled like must._

_Seeing his horrified expression, Louis laughed._

_“Don’t worry, mate,” he said. “I’m sure the small, flamboyant bloke will be targeted before the straight-appearing biker looking man.”_

_“I don’t look like a biker,” Zayn said, picking at his leather jacket. Louis rolled his eyes, silently disagreeing._

_During their years of trying to go out and have fun without being noticed, Zayn and Louis had made a few helpful observations. Many people in the rich bars and clubs didn’t care about them, finding themselves as good as or better than a couple of child stars. However, people in the dive-type bars typically didn’t care about them either, or they at least acted that way; probably because most were male university students who were too ‘cool’ to care about anyone but themselves._

_Moments upon entering, Louis and Zayn realized they’d not only stumbled into a dive bar, but a karaoke place, and had they not just ordered drinks for themselves, they may have walked out, but after a texted discussion (they couldn’t hear each other over the person shrieking in the adjoining room anyway), they decided to at least stay until they finished their first beverage._

_“Can I sign you up to sing?” Louis asked while the DJ was transitioning singers._

_“I don’t do karaoke,” Zayn reminded the man._

_“Yeah, but if you sing, I don’t have to listen to people that sound like dying mice.”_

_“Yes, but if I sing, that will take me longer to finish my drink and we’ll probably have to hear whatever that noise was again.”_

_“True. Fuck you and your logic.”_

_Zayn smiled and took a long swig of his drink. The faster he drank it, the better._

_The second person wasn’t terrible, and their song choice was good, so Zayn and Louis gave them a well-deserved round of applause after they had finished and handed the microphone back to the DJ._

_“Excellent job,” the DJ told them. “Next up is Liam singing some Zayn for us.”_

_Louis cackled at the sheer look of terror that crossed his friend’s face. Zayn saw two problems with the situation; one, they had probably been spotted and this ‘Liam,’ whoever he was, had likely noticed that he was there and was now trying to impress him or at least draw his attention. The second problem was that Zayn likely wouldn’t be able to listen to his own song the same way after this._

_“Liam?” the DJ asked when no one immediately headed over, and suddenly, some frat looking guy came running in from the bar, tripping over absolutely nothing in the process._

_“Coming! Sorry!” the seemingly intoxicated man announced. He took the microphone from the DJ and stood in front of the screen, taking a few noticeable deep breaths, though whether it was from nerves or from darting halfway across the bar, Zayn wasn’t sure._

_“Well, I don’t know what he’s going to sound like, but at least he’s good to look at,” Louis reasoned, sucking on his straw thirstily. Zayn gave a subtle nod, not wanting anyone to see his agreement if they had somehow heard Louis over the beginning sounds of ‘Pillow Talk.’_

_Zayn had assumed this guy-Liam-had chosen his song to sing because he knew he was there, but he started to have doubts when he didn’t look towards his and Louis’s table a single time. He was fidgeting nervously waiting for the music to start, and Zayn thought it was odd that someone who was clearly insecure about public singing would choose to perform an artist’s own song right in front of them._

_As Liam took a breath, getting ready for the lyric part of the song to start, Zayn braced himself. It would be quite rude to make a face or laugh, and Zayn liked to think he was a nice person, despite what the media wanted to portray. However, he couldn’t help the widening of his eyes or the way his mouth slacked open when Liam opened his mouth and began to sing, and it seemed Louis couldn’t either._

_“Holy shit! He’s better than you,” Louis said. He was quick to tell Zayn he was joking, never wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings, but Zayn thought he may have been telling the truth. Liam’s pitch and tone were both near perfect, and he kept sounding better and better as the song went on and he became more comfortable. Still, he didn’t ever look at Zayn._

_The whole place seemed to grow quiet and focus on Liam, who turned bright red once the song was over and everyone, including Zayn and Louis, began clapping and cheering. A few people gave him a standing ovation and Zayn rose to his feet as well, willing to show himself that night to tell this Liam guy how amazing he did._

_Before Zayn could reach the karaoke star, three of his friends had rushed over, patted him on the back and then took him back to the bar. Zayn glanced at Louis, who nodded, silently giving Zayn his blessing to follow the group._

_It seemed Liam’s friends had bought him a shot, and after he had downed it like a champ, causing his friends to erupt in celebration again, Zayn nervously tapped the other on the shoulder. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. He met new people almost everyday and was not a particularly shy individual. Suddenly, he wished he’d brought his drink with him._

_Liam turned around at the same time his group of friends took notice of Zayn. They all fell silent and Liam, who had taken a drink of another beverage that had been sitting in front of him, spat the drink out all over himself, Zayn, and the floor._

_“Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Oh my god. Shit. I’m sorry,” Liam apologized, handing a chuckling Zayn a wad of napkins as he turned so red that the singer thought he may pass out. “I’m really, really sorry, it’s just that you look exactly like the guy who sings the song I just butchered.”_

_“Zayn,” the star said with a smile, extending a hand to formally introduce himself. He seemed to put Liam further into shock, as his mouth fell open even more and his face somehow turned a deeper shade of red. He half sat on the bar stool behind him as he shook the other’s hand._

_“Liam,” he said weakly. If Zayn hadn’t already known that was his name, he probably wouldn’t have been able to pick it up. He felt the man’s friends staring him down but ignored them._

_“Well, Liam, I just came by to say that you absolutely did not butcher my song and that was seriously amazing. Have you ever sung professionally?”_

_“Oh, no,” Liam said, shaking his head quickly. “I’ve had some lessons which helped me improve a bit, but not enough to, like, make it a career or anything.”_

_“I disagree,” Zayn said, “though if karaoke bars are where your singing career begins and ends, I can understand why you’d think so. The acoustics are terrible in here, so you’re probably not hearing yourself correctly. Maybe you could come into the studio and record a snippet to hear back?”_

_Liam truly looked like he may pass out and Zayn felt the same. Zayn had already known he was gay for quite some time (though had just told Louis-the only person he’d told so far-a couple months ago), but he’d never met somebody that immediately made his heart race or gave him those so-called ‘butterflies,’ which he’d been convinced didn’t exist at all. This man, though, was gorgeous to the point where Zayn thought there should be a room in a museum dedicated to only pictures of him._

_“You can think about it,” Zayn told Liam when he didn’t seem to know what to say. Looking around at the group of frat-looking boys, he added, “In the meantime, why don’t I buy everyone a round or two?”_

_When the group agreed, Zayn gestured Louis over. His friend brought both of their drinks as the guys made room for them at the bar. Zayn silently thanked them for managing to get him beside of Liam._

_As Liam drank, he started to relax. Zayn knew it was due to the alcohol, but he told himself it was because he was such a good conversationalist. He learned that Liam worked in a sports store at a nearby mall and had yet to go to university because he didn’t know what he wanted to do. When Zayn suggested he become a professional singer, the man turned red and said that wasn’t going to happen, but he thanked Zayn anyway._

_All too soon, it was last call. Louis tapped on Zayn’s shoulder and asked if he was ready to go. He wasn’t, but he nodded anyway._

_“It was really nice meeting you, Liam,” Zayn said, sliding off his bar stool slowly; hoping Liam would take him up on his offer to go to the studio._

_“Yeah, thanks; you too,” Liam said. He looked Zayn up and down, then said, “Fuck, you’re, like, really cool.”_

_“I pretend to be,” Zayn said with a small laugh._

_“Would it be totally lame if, like, I asked for a picture?” Liam asked, turning red as he did so. Zayn couldn’t help but to smile._

_“Of course not,” he said. Liam started to get out his phone, but one of his friends snatched it from him, ‘tsking’ as he did so._

_“You have a best mate that’s a photography student and has his own camera right here and you’re going to use your outdated iPhone five?! I don’t think so!”_

_Liam laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly as he gave Zayn an apologetic look. Zayn simply smiled and let himself be positioned next to Liam in multiple places before the photographer found the right lighting. Once he was satisfied, he instructed Liam to put his arm around Zayn, and after receiving permission, Liam did so. Having retrieved his polaroid camera from his bag, the other took a couple of pictures, though he did cave and take one with Liam’s phone after so he could make sure he hadn’t ‘blinked or made a stupid face.’_

_Their photoshoot complete, the men took a seat as they waited for their bills. After signing the bar’s copy of the receipt, Zayn took the sharpie he kept on him at all times for fan autographs and asked if he could see one of the polaroid pictures his friend had taken._

_“It’s not really developed yet,” Liam said, but handed it over to Zayn anyway. Zayn signed his name on the bottom, mostly out of habit, and then wrote his number down as well before sliding the picture back to Liam._

_“If you ever want to come to the studio or, you know, just chill, give me a ring.”_

_Liam’s eyes were wide as he stared at the number as if it were written in symbols. Zayn laughed lightly to himself, but felt Louis tugging on his jacket._

_“Hopefully I see you around,” Zayn said to the man he’d just met, who smiled as he looked at him and nodded eagerly._

_“Yeah, yeah. Definitely…I hope.”_

_After offering Liam a special smile of his own, Zayn turned to the rest of the group to say his goodbyes before following Louis out to his car._

_“You good to drive?” Zayn asked._

_“Yeah, I only had a couple and then two glasses of water,” Louis said. The two got into the car, and once they were safely locked away inside, Louis screamed excitedly, smacking Zayn repeatedly on the arm in his euphoric state._

_“Ow,” Zayn said, even though Louis wasn’t truly hurting him._

_“Oh my god, oh my god!” Louis said, ceasing smacking Zayn but flailing his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “My little baby gay is in full blossom!”_

_“What the fuck?”_

_“You were all smiley and giggly and batting your long, pretty eyelashes and Liam is so hot and just ate it up!”_

_“Are you sure you’re not drunk?”_

_“Positive. I’m just so happy for you!”_

_“Lou,” Zayn said with a laugh, “I mean, yeah, Liam’s hot, but you know I can’t do anything about that and besides, he’s probably not even into guys.”_

_“I don’t know. He certainly seemed into **you**.”_

_“Yeah, because he likes my music. He was experiencing a normal amount of starstruck is all.”_

_“Whatever, mate. I get to be the best man at your wedding, right?”_

_“You’re ridiculous.”_

**“ _I get to be the best man at your wedding, right?!”_**

_“Yes, Louis,” Zayn said. “If such an unlikely event ever happens, you will be my best man.”_

_Louis smiled, the deep, threatening voice he’d just used going back to his normal high-pitched and chipper one._

_“Yay!”_

The night they’d met, Zayn had no idea how far Liam would make it or how close they would become. He wasn’t surprised that the other was successful, because he wouldn’t have been so interested in trying to help him only to watch him fail, but as he walked into the building where Liam’s album release party was being held, he felt almost overwhelmed with pride and other emotions. He smiled for the first time in what felt like years when he saw the banner with the picture of the album cover hanging up.

            Martin, Zayn’s manager, who had ridden with him to ‘keep an eye on him,’ walked in closely behind him and laid a hand on his back. Zayn flinched out of his grasp but made sure to keep the smile on his face as he turned around to face the other.

            “He has you to thank for this, you know,” Martin said, and Zayn shook his head.

            “He had everything he needed to be a star. I just introduced him to the right people.”

            “Still, he wouldn’t be here without you.”

            They didn’t know if that was true. Zayn was sure someone else would have discovered Liam eventually if he hadn’t, but he was glad that it had been him. Though their good times were in the past, Zayn had enjoyed being there for Liam and watching his rise to the top. He hoped he never fell as Zayn had.

            “I need some water,” Zayn said, earning himself a suspicious glance from Martin. “Just water, I swear.”

            “Alright. I have some people I need to meet up with. Be good, Zayn.”

            Zayn shuddered and scratched the back of his neck, feeling again as if he needed to shower.

“Will do,” he replied, spinning on his heel and hurrying to the bathroom before Martin had even walked away. He washed his hands, then all the way up his arms, and then washed his hands again. It still wasn’t enough, but someone else had entered the bathroom and had already given him a strange look, so doing his best to ignore the filth he felt growing on his body, Zayn left the toilets and went to find some water, or maybe an alcoholic drink. They’d wanted Zayn to be the bad boy, and perhaps that was exactly what Zayn would give them.

            In the end, he fought his desire for alcohol. Zayn knew he wouldn’t stay sober forever, but he did want to take his reputation back and turn it around. There was a certain beauty in the fallen bad boy turned good, right?

            Sucking down his water and pretending it was something better, Zayn began to wander. He stopped and posed for pictures when the photographers asked him to, patiently answering time and time again what he was drinking, until, finally, he stumbled upon Liam, who was also sipping on a lemon water and laughing at something Gianna was saying. Zayn hadn’t realized they were still a public item and was about to turn and walk the other direction when Liam saw him, and a smile broke across his face. He excused himself from the small group surrounding him and hurried over, giving Zayn a tight, one-armed hug.

            “Hey,” Liam said softly into Zayn’s ear, as if he only wanted him to hear. He often spoke to Zayn like that, and Zayn instinctively closed his eyes for just a moment, savoring the warmth that enveloped him. “How are you doing?”

            “I’m fine,” Zayn assured the other as they let go. Still, part of Zayn felt lighter just looking at Liam; his face so full of light and life that Zayn seemed to be missing from himself. “How are you? Excited? Nervous?”

            “Both,” Liam answered with a small laugh. He took a drink of his water and said, “It’s just so unbelievable…I know this has been my life for the past five years, but I still feel like I’m going to wake up one day and it will all be gone.”

            “It’s not a dream, just everything you deserve,” Zayn said. Liam smiled, his eyes scanning Zayn as he licked his lips. Immediately, Zayn wanted to take him to a broom closet and have his way with him, but then he remembered that they couldn’t do that anymore.

            “There’s something I’ve been pondering that I’d like to talk to you about soon,” Liam said. “Would you like to go to dinner tomorrow? You know, now that the public knows we’re friendly, we can maybe actually have a proper meal together.”

            “Yeah, dinner sounds good,” Zayn said. For some reason, he still felt nervous, even though everyone knew his secret; it was Liam’s that was still well-hidden. “Just let me know when and where.”

            “I will,” Liam promised, but further conversation was interrupted by Martin appearing from seemingly nowhere.

            “Great! You two found each other! How about a picture with Zayn and his hero?”

            “I’m not his hero,” Liam said. “I called the ambulance, but he saved himself.”

            Martin didn’t reply, and Liam gave Zayn a reassuring smile as he wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Zayn’s manager took a couple shots, smiled widely, and gave a thumbs up.

            “Gorgeous! Love it!”

            With that, the man left again. Liam gave a soft laugh and then looked down at Zayn, his arm still around his shoulders.

            “How about we take one just for us now?” he asked. Zayn agreed and Liam slipped his phone from his back pocket, held it above their heads expertly, and smiled for the camera. Zayn knew he was smiling too but was not expecting to see himself leaning so close into Liam. Yet, when he tried to back away, Liam held him in place.

            “There,” Liam said, satisfied after he’d examined the photo for a few seconds. “I wanted a collection of pictures with people who would be here even if it wasn’t for their own publicity.”

            “Well, I hate to break it to you, Li, but that’s exactly why Martin brought me here.”

            “I know, but you would have chosen to be here anyway if the matter was up to you.”

            “Of course.”

            Liam smiled, taking in Zayn’s face again before he sighed.

            “I guess I should be going, but I’m really glad you’re here and that you seem to be doing well. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

            “Yeah,” Zayn agreed. “Have fun. Congratulations!”

            Liam smiled, offering a small wave before hurrying back to his fake girlfriend. Zayn wondered if his boyfriend was there.

            Zayn began to wander again, wondering how long he was expected to stay. He wanted to be there for Liam, of course, but the other didn’t need him there. Besides, Zayn wanted to leave before it was time for the fans to file in. If he was seen, it could potentially distract from Liam’s album, and Liam didn’t deserve that.

            Deciding he would eat a snack before finding Martin and asking when he could leave, Zayn first went to the bathroom to wash his hands. He was alone, so he washed his hands and arms once, twice, three times before the bathroom door was forcefully opened and hit the wall, causing Zayn to nearly jump out of the skin he was scrubbing off.

            “Oops,” the person entering said, and then stumbled around the corner, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Zayn.

            “Hey, Niall,” Zayn said, turning off the water and drying his sore hands. He wondered if it would be frowned upon for him to find Gianna and ask to borrow her lotion. “How’s it going?”

            “Zayn,” Niall greeted with a nod, which knocked him off balance. Leaning against the hand dryer, he said, “You’ve taken a note from my book, I see.”

            Niall had become famous after he and Zayn had starred in a movie together when they were thirteen years old. It had been a teenybopper movie, and before Niall had even known what hit him, he was the epitome of everything a girl (and her parents) could want. As it turned out, Niall could sing as well, and he released his first album shortly after Zayn’s second. The two had already known each other quite well and were proper friends; more like brothers, even, since they’d both stayed with Martin off and on for a few years until they were old enough to get their own places in California. It was during their tour that Niall fell into drugs and alcohol, and Zayn tried to help him the best he knew how, but Niall fell deeper and deeper until, similar to Zayn, he had to be hospitalized. He was put away for much longer and didn’t seem better at all when finally released, and Zayn used to judge him; wondering just what about this lifestyle he couldn’t handle, but after facing his own struggle, he realized that had been unfair. Zayn never tried to complain about the lifestyle of the rich and famous because he knew thousands if not millions would kill to take his place, but there was no arguing that it could be quite lonely. Money could buy friends, but not necessarily the right kind.

            “Eh, I’m clean and sober now,” Zayn said with a shrug, and Niall took a slow, unsteady step towards him. Zayn prayed he didn’t fall and crack his head open right here on the bathroom floor.

            “How do you do it?” Niall asked, genuine wonder in his voice.

            “Lots of self-restraint, exercise and hand washing,” Zayn said.

            “Hand washing?”

            “It was a joke…kind of.”

            Niall didn’t look as if he understood, which Zayn couldn’t blame him for because it had been a lousy attempt at humor, but the other singer shook his head and amended his first question.

            “No, I mean how do you forget when you’re sober?”

            “Forget what?”

            Niall stared at Zayn, studying him hard before shrugging.

            “Anything. Everything.”

            “I think the real question, Niall, is do you really ever forget, even when you’re not?”

            Again, Niall seemed deep in thought, but before he could reply to Zayn, the bathroom door was flung open again, causing them both to jump.

            “Are we bringing the party in here, boys?” Martin asked, looking at each of his clients suspiciously.

            “Just have to piss,” Niall muttered, locking himself in a stall.

            “Washing my hands,” Zayn explained, lathering up again. Both the water and soap stung, and he bit the insides of his cheeks. Once he was done, Martin followed him out.

            “I don’t think you need to be seen around Niall right now,” he told Zayn.

            “He’s still my mate,” Zayn said. “If I fall off the wagon, it’s going to happen whether or not I’m talking to him.”

            “Still, for the public-”

            “Not everything is about the fucking public, Martin,” Zayn said, turning sharply on his heel. Martin was noticeably shocked by his behavior, but so was Zayn. Softening his tone, he asked, “Why don’t you make him go back and get help again? Why don’t you give him an ultimatum like you did me?”

            “Not everyone can be saved, Zayn. They’re not all as strong as you.”

            The singer moved out of the older man’s reach as he tried to touch his shoulder. Martin crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes.

            “Careful, Zayn.”

            With a roll of his eyes, Zayn turned and walked away. He almost asked Martin if he could leave but then realized that he was a grown man and could leave if he wanted to. Zayn wasn’t being paid to be here. His manager couldn’t hold him captive.

            Zayn was going to say goodbye to Liam, but when minutes passed and he couldn’t find him, he knew he had to get out of there. It felt like the walls were getting smaller and smaller, threatening to suffocate him, so Zayn hurried out of the back exit as fans started to file in, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he did. His eyes closed as he embraced the still silence after the loud, bustling party, and Zayn wasn’t sure how he was so lonely, yet sometimes found himself to be overwhelmed by too much human contact. He didn’t think he’d always been like that, but then again, he was not the same person he’d felt he was mere months ago.

            Some days, Zayn felt as if a funeral should be held for the man he used to be.

            Zayn was in the taxi on his way home when he received a text from Liam.

            _Where are you? They’re about to start playing the album and I’m soooo nervous._

Familiar guilt welled up inside Zayn, who felt like he’d let Liam down once again. That was silly, though, because Liam had his other friends, and his boyfriend was probably somewhere at the party too.

            _Sorry, I felt really sick and had to leave,_ Zayn said. _Can’t wait to hear the album though! I’m downloading it at midnight!_

_Oh no =[ Sorry you’re not feeling well. Do you need anything?_

_No thanks, Li. Enjoy your party! I’m so proud of you!_

It took a while for Liam to reply, but when he did, it was with a short, sweet

            _Thanks! XXX_

Zayn spent some time with his treadmill and punching bag when he got home. He found himself growing lightheaded afterward in the shower and realized that he never had gotten a snack at Liam’s party. Going into the kitchen after he’d lathered his sore, dry body with lotion, he poured himself a small bowl of pretzels and ate them in his studio as he scribbled lines down on a sheet of paper. He wasn’t even sure if any of the lyrics could be used in the same song, but that was always how he wrote. One or two lines would pop in his head and he would center the rest of the song around them. Tonight, he didn’t seem able to concentrate enough to get a full song onto the paper, but that happened sometimes. He didn’t beat himself up over it.

            The next time Zayn’s phone went off, he was alarmed to see that it was well after one in the morning. Only then did he become aware of the burning in his eyes and the aching of his wrist from writing for so long. Curling and uncurling his fingers, Zayn read the text he’d received which was, again, from Liam.

            _You’re probably sleeping but I just wanted to say good night and I hope you feel better! We don’t have to do dinner, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow!_

Immediately after, Liam sent a second message, correcting himself.

            _Later today actually, I guess._

_I’m not asleep, though I should probably be heading there, and I’m feeling alright, thanks. Hope you had a great time, sorry I bailed early. I’ll talk to you soon =]_

When Liam didn’t reply within a minute, Zayn assumed he wasn’t going to. Standing up, Zayn stretched, his back cracking, and then went to change and wash his face. By the time he laid back in bed, he was surprised to find that Liam had sent him a text back.

            _Good! I miss youuouu!_

Laughing out loud, Zayn asked,

            _Are you drunk?_

_NO!,_ Liam replied, using an emoji that looked quite offended. Still smiling, Zayn said,

            _I think you are. Nothing wrong with that! Have one for me!_

_I will absolutely not have one for you since I am NOTE drinking._

_What is ‘NOTE’ drinking?_ , Zayn asked. Again, it took Liam a few minutes to reply and when he did, it was with a simple ‘thumbs down’ emoji. Shaking his head, Zayn told him,

            _Have fun! I’m going to listen to your album while I fall asleep now. Good night._

_Oh no! Now I’m nervous! Good night tho XXX_

Zayn stared at those three ‘Xs’ that were almost like Liam’s signature, smiling for only a moment before he downloaded Liam’s album, plugged in his phone, and turned the volume up high. He didn’t want to actually fall asleep until it had played all the way through, but Liam’s voice always relaxed him and soon he fell asleep to a slower song called ‘Infinity;’ the first peaceful sleep he’d had in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, okay, the whole 'polaroid' bit was a little cheesy but I really like that song and relating it to Ziam, okay? :p


	4. Back To Life

            _Once three days had passed and Liam never sent a text or called, Zayn grew embarrassed. Why did he make himself seem so desperate and weird? As he’d told Louis, the guy liked his music. It didn’t mean he wanted to be friends or anything else with him._

_Liam probably knew he was gay._

_Louis didn’t ask Zayn if he’d heard from the other man on the third day, which was good. Zayn didn’t know if he would have been able to handle the humiliation that saying ‘no’ again would bring. He wondered if he should have told the other guy that he was leaving to go back to California after a couple weeks before realizing that it wouldn’t matter. If Liam wanted to, he would get in contact with him long before that two weeks was up._

_Since he’d just finished up a ten-month tour, Zayn was spending some much needed time with his family back in England. Despite having more than enough money to stay in a nice hotel, and even though his childhood bedroom was four times smaller than his bedroom back in California, he always stayed at his parents’ house while visiting. Since he’d had a career starting at the age of two, he sometimes felt as though he hadn’t gotten to spend enough time with his family. Zayn’s parents had three other kids as well, so he only saw his dad in between jobs or on the rare occasion the man would visit him in another city, and his mother would fly with Zayn initially to his destination, stay with him for a week or two as he got situated, and then leave him in the care of various managers, producers, or co-workers while she went home for another week or two to see her girls. The back and forth became persistent in Zayn’s childhood, and whenever he did get to see his mom, their time together was usually spent with her helping him run lines or watching him at his job._

_It wasn’t either of his parents’ fault, of course. Zayn told them that he liked this lifestyle, and most of the time he was telling the truth. Even during the crazier times, Zayn managed to remember that he was lucky and vowed to never be one of the stars who complained about their status._

_Still, sleeping in his childhood bed that he’d rarely even used as a kid gave Zayn a sweet, nostalgic feeling, even if his feet hanged a little off the edge._

_Finally, three nights after he met Liam, Zayn received a text from an unknown number. Usually, those filled him with anxiety; It wasn’t uncommon for a fan to somehow get his digits and send him harassing messages until he had to change his phone number, but this time, he became excited. He was almost embarrassed about how wide he was smiling as he read the text._

_**Hey, this is Liam…Is this really Zayn?**_

**** _Zayn was going to reply with a simple ‘yes,’ but wasn’t sure that would be enough to convince the other man, who hadn’t even believed who he was when he’d been standing right in front of him. Instead, he took a selfie, and then another, and then four more until he finally had one he deemed suitable and sent it with the words,_

_**Yep, it really is.**_

**** _It took Liam a while to reply, and when he did, he said,_

_**Sorry, had to google the image and make sure this wasn’t an old picture I hadn’t seen! What’s up?**_

**_Do you want a video or something? Swear it’s me…haha. I was just doing a bit of writing. What are you doing?_ **

**_No, I trust you. Sorry didn’t mean to interrupt your work! I’ll let you go!_ **

**_I’m not making much progress anyway,_ ** _Zayn was quick to reply, feeling as if he would never talk to Liam again if he cut the conversation off so early. In a second message, he again asked,_

**_What are you up to tonight?_ **

_Liam replied with a picture of multiple full shot glasses surrounding a pitcher of beer. Zayn said,_

_**Damn, man, are you going to get to drinking or are you going to sit there and let all that delicious looking alcohol go to waste?**_

**_I am already drunk, lmao,_ ** _Liam said, and admitted, **I refilled everything for photo-quality purposes.**_

**_It’s a gorgeous photo,_ ** _Zayn told him._

_**Do you want to come over?!?!?!?!** , Liam asked next. **We’re just at my friend Sam’s flat and you met most of everyone here the other day…but if not, I toooootally understand! You probably have much better things to do than hang out with crazy fans!**_

**_Not really, unless you count pulling my own hair out while trying to get this line right ‘better.’_ **

**** _Seeming satisfied enough with that answer, the next text was an address. He told Zayn he could bring Louis along too if he wanted and Louis, always up for a party, agreed. Zayn didn’t mind the last-minute invitation, especially since it was from Liam, but he wished he’d had more time so that he could invite Louis over to help him pick out an outfit._

_“Looking hot,” Louis said approvingly when Zayn went to pick him up. “Did you bring protection?”_

_“Shut up. You’re so obnoxious.”_

_Louis laughed, amusing himself, at least, and Zayn opened the GPS on his phone to the address Liam had sent him. It was only about twenty minutes away, and he wondered how many times he and Liam could have almost crossed paths before. Then he wondered why he was thinking about such things and cleared his throat, embarrassed; as if Louis could read his mind. Luckily, his friend didn’t question him._

_Liam was outside on the front porch smoking a cigarette when Zayn and Louis pulled up. Suddenly, Zayn’s palms turned sweaty and if Liam hadn’t already seen them, he may have turned around and gone right back home, but Liam waved before Zayn had even put the car in park._

_“You’re going to ruin your pretty voice with that,” Zayn said, and Liam, who was walking towards the pair, raised an eyebrow._

_“Don’t you smoke?”_

_“Yeah,” Zayn admitted with a smile. Liam shook his head, but he managed to smile slightly while balancing the cigarette between his lips as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his pack of smokes._

_“Want one?” he asked Zayn, who accepted, and then he turned the pack to Louis, who declined._

_“They cause wrinkles,” Louis explained, only half teasingly, and Liam laughed._

_“I’m sure you can afford Botox,” he said with a wink, but added, “Good for you though. I keep saying I’m going to quit. Maybe one day I’ll actually do it.”_

_Liam turned his gaze back to Zayn, studying his face. Zayn did the same to Liam, probably for different reasons, and even though Liam was somehow even more gorgeous than he remembered, he couldn’t help but to laugh._

_“You’re blasted,” he said, and Liam choked on his smoke._

_“A little,” he admitted. “Had to be, to text you.”_

_“You didn’t have to if I cause you that much anxiety, but I’m glad you did.”_

_Liam smiled, staring at Zayn again before replying quietly._

_“I am too.”_

_After their little moment was over, Liam took Zayn and Louis to the backyard for a couple of shots before pouring each of them a drink. As they talked, Louis slyly found his way out of the conversation and then slowly away from the two, leaving them virtually alone. Liam didn’t seem to notice._

_“The beer isn’t too warm, is it?” he asked._

_“No, it’s fine,” Zayn replied as he shivered and wished the beer were spiked hot chocolate instead. He supposed he could take Liam over to the bonfire, but there were so many people surrounding the area that to do so would mean their private conversation would cease, and Zayn was quite enjoying jumping from random topic to random topic with a tipsy, giggly Liam._

_Noticing his shiver, Liam frowned and took his hoodie off, trying to offer it to Zayn, who shook his head._

_“You’re going to get cold,” he told the other, who laughed._

_“I think I’m too drunk to be cold,” he said. “We could go by the fire?”_

_“Erm…yeah, we could,” Zayn said, but the other man must have noticed the hesitation in his voice because then he made another suggestion._

_“Or we could go inside.”_

_A small smile broke across Zayn’s face and he nodded. The inside would be warm from the cool night air and from others listening in on his and Liam’s conversation._

_After pouring himself another drink, Liam led Zayn inside. There were a couple people in the kitchen, but Liam and Zayn walked right past them with polite ‘hellos’ and went straight to the living room, where Liam sat on the floor, his back against the couch. Figuring that maybe Sam didn’t like people to drink on his furniture, Zayn sat in front of Liam and took a sip of his beer. He shivered one last time before the chill started to leave his bones._

_“I hope you’re having fun,” Liam said, and Zayn nodded._

_“I am,” he assured him. “Thanks for inviting me. You and your friends are, like, really cool. I feel normal here…I like it.”_

_Liam smiled, studying Zayn yet again before he replied._

_“You actually are really normal. I felt like, with being a huge child star, that you would either be a complete stuck-up ass or super weird, but you’re really nice and, uh, not weird.”_

_“Thank you,” Zayn said with a laugh, knowing Liam was trying his best to give him compliments. Liam smiled again then took a drink of his beer._

_“How long are you in England for?” he asked. “Don’t you live in California?”_

_“I do, but I came to visit family for a couple weeks. I needed some down time after my last tour.”_

_“Ugh, mate, I was so pissed that I didn’t get to go see you on tour! I had tickets and everything but then my nan got sick and I couldn’t go.”_

_“I’m sorry to hear that,” Zayn said sincerely. “I hope she’s doing alright now.”_

_“She died.”_

_“Oh.”_

_Zayn felt his face growing hot._

_“I’m sorry,” he told the other, who managed to laugh._

_“It’s alright,” he assured him. “I mean, it sucks, obviously, but she was old and sick. It wasn’t unexpected.”_

_Unsure of what to say, Zayn took another drink. With a small smile, Liam changed the subject._

_“I may get to hear you perform in the studio anyway, right?”_

_“We’re going to the studio for you,” Zayn said, “but I suppose I can do a couple songs, if it would make you happy.”_

_Liam’s full smile broke across his face then; the smile Zayn had only seen once or twice before that made his whole face light up. Zayn thought he was having heart palpitations and took such a big gulp of his alcohol that he nearly gagged. Liam either didn’t notice or was kind enough not to say anything._

_“Can we take another picture?” he asked. “I promise I won’t upload this one to social media.”_

_“Oh, you uploaded the other to social media, huh?” Zayn teased, and Liam turned pink-well, pinker, since the alcohol was already giving him a flushed face._

_“Yeah, but I can delete it,” he offered, taking his phone from his hoodie pocket, but Zayn lightly touched his wrist._

_“That’s alright. I was teasing.”_

_“Oh,” Liam said, the corners of his mouth inching upwards as he put his phone back into his pocket._

_“What are you doing? Aren’t we taking a picture?” Zayn asked. A wider smile breaking across his face, Liam nodded. Zayn scooted closer as the other opened the camera on his phone and subtly leaned so that his shoulder was touching Liam’s. Liam didn’t move away, so maybe he didn’t know Zayn was gay or think he was disgusting after all._

_“Thanks,” Liam said after he had studied the picture for a moment and determined that it was good enough. “Now in the morning I will know this actually happened and that someone didn’t slip me something that caused me to have a wonderful, realistic trip.”_

_Zayn laughed, scooting away when Liam shifted._

_“Should I be scared? Do your mates have a tendency to drug the alcohol?”_

_“No,” Liam assured him. “You just never know. Weirder things have happened, like a famous pop star being at the same run-down karaoke bar where you mutilate his song and then somehow thinking it was good enough to warrant giving you his number.”_

_“It **was** good,” Zayn said. “It was great. You’ll see when we go to the studio. You just haven’t heard yourself in the right setting yet.”_

_Looking amused, Liam shook his head, then promptly changed the subject. He and Zayn talked for what felt like hours. Slowly, other party-goers filed in to find somewhere to crash or to gather their things and head home. Louis was included, deciding he was going to go to bed with a guy that Liam said was named Darren. Zayn was quite sure that he and Liam were the last ones awake, but it didn’t take long for Liam to start falling asleep sitting up, sometimes cutting himself off from a sentence._

_“You ready for bed, mate?” Zayn asked him the third time it happened; startling Liam awake. He wiped non-existent drool from his mouth and smiled apologetically._

_“I’m okay,” he said, and Zayn gave him a look._

_“Mate, you were starting to snore sitting up.”_

_When Liam looked embarrassed, Zayn assured him,_

_“It’s really fine. I’m about to crash too. First, do you know where the toilet is in this place?”_

_Liam told him, and when Zayn was finished with his business and went back to the living room, the other had a spot made up on the couch with a couple pillows and a blanket._

_“For you,” he explained, all the while laying on the ground next to the couch._

_“I don’t want to sleep on the sofa when you’re stuck on the floor,” Zayn said._

_“I’m so tired, it doesn’t even matter. Besides, you’re my guest; I invited you. You should have the sofa.”_

_Zayn wanted to suggest that they both try to fit on it. He thought they could manage, if they huddled close, but just the thought made his anxiety rise. He felt as if he should go wash his hands again, but Liam had already seen him come out of the bathroom, so he didn’t; just simply laid on the couch and pulled the blanket up to his chin._

_“There’s a bottle of water on the end table if you need it,” Liam said, his voice hoarse from exhaustion._

_“Alright, thanks,” Zayn said. Liam was silent and Zayn thought he had fallen asleep, but then he heard him mumble quietly,_

_“Good night.”_

_“Good night, Liam.”_

_Finally, Zayn heard soft snores coming from the man on the ground below him. It wasn’t anything obnoxious or that would keep him awake; it just sounded peaceful, but Zayn found that he couldn’t sleep. He felt as if he were intruding; spreading the filth from the thoughts that were in his mind onto this stranger’s couch. Part of Zayn thought he should have never gone up to Liam in the bar. He should have known from the way he’d found it hard to take his eyes off him while he was singing that Liam was dangerous, but that was hard to believe when Zayn looked down at his sleeping face and saw nothing but innocence._

_Eventually,  Zayn removed himself from the sofa and laid next to Liam instead. Almost as soon as he’d positioned himself next to the man, Liam rolled over and inched a bit closer; not to where the two were touching, but so that Zayn could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck. To Zayn, it felt good, and he found that he had to go wash his hands again after laying there and taking it for two solid minutes. When he came back, Liam had rolled over to face the couch again, and after laying back down on the floor, Zayn was finally able to get some sleep._

            The next morning, Zayn noticed that the picture Martin had taken of him and Liam had been uploaded. There was a caption calling Liam his hero and saying he didn’t know where he would be if it hadn’t been for the support of him and Gianna, and Zayn rolled his eyes. It was true-the Liam part, at least-but he thought simply uploading the picture should have sufficed for the publicity stunt they were trying to pull.

            Zayn had woken a little too late for his morning run, though he felt too drained to exercise anyway. He ate a piece of toast and had a cup of tea and then began replaying Liam’s album during his shower. When the third song, ‘Infinity,’ started to play, Zayn was surprised he’d managed to fall asleep to it the night before because it was quite a sad song and his heart hurt for Liam as he belted lyrics about being heartbroken.

            After showering, Zayn spent a good amount of time on his hair just in case he did see Liam that day, as planned. The album was over by the time he was finished, so Zayn played his favorites again, though almost every song was a ‘favorite.’ If Zayn’s career was truly over, at least he’d helped in giving the gift of Liam Payne to the world.

            By the time one o’ clock rolled around, Zayn still hadn’t heard from his friend. He’d given him time, thinking he was probably sleeping in and/or hungover, but it had reached the point where Zayn needed to know if he was being bailed on, and so he called Liam, hoping he didn’t wake him up.

            “Hello?” Liam answered, his voice clear and chipper enough to help Zayn relax a little.

            “Hey, Li. What’s up?”

            “Hi, Zaynie! Not much. How are you feeling?”

            “I’m fine. How about yourself?”

            “Great,” Liam answered. “I was going to call this morning, but I know you didn’t feel well yesterday so I wasn’t sure how late you were sleeping.”

            “I’ve been up for a while; just thought you were too drunk or hungover to answer the phone.”

            Liam laughed and, appearing to forget that he’d sworn the previous night he hadn’t been drinking, said,

            “I was just a bit tipsy, is all. I’m good. Are we still hanging today?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Zayn said, trying not to sound too eager or excited. “Are we doing dinner, or…?”

            “We can, or you can come over for lunch if you’d like. I’m making pizza grilled cheeses.”

            “Ah, such a delicacy,” Zayn said, trying and failing to remember the last time he’d had his favorite childhood meal.

            “Come on over,” Liam insisted. After a small deliberation-Liam had done so much for Zayn already that Zayn didn’t want him to have to cook for him-he agreed and told Liam he would be there in a bit.

            Before heading out, Zayn had to scrub his hands and arms, wondering when he started feeling this dirty in respects to Liam again, and fixed his hair one last time. Despite the nagging thoughts that he was a nuisance and he should not be going over to Liam’s house and contaminating his life, Zayn was excited to see the man again when they could be alone in a relaxed setting.

            As always, Liam greeted Zayn with a hug before leading him inside, where the delicious aroma of pizza grilled cheese wafted into Zayn’s nostrils. His stomach growled, though luckily it was not audible. Thinking back on it, he realized he’d only eaten a couple scrambled eggs, half a sandwich and some pretzels yesterday. He knew he needed to concentrate on eating regular meals and felt a tinge of sadness when he realized that he didn’t have his mom around to tell him he was ‘too skinny’ anymore.

            Luckily, he still had Liam for that.

            “How have you been?” Liam asked, as he did every time he and Zayn spoke.

            “I’ve been good,” Zayn said, the words coming naturally even if they weren’t completely accurate.

            “Yeah?” Liam asked, looking at Zayn unsurely as he flipped the grilled cheeses. “I don’t mean this as an insult, mate, but you look like you’ve lost a lot of weight.”

            Zayn shrugged, allowing himself to sit at the island since Liam had told Zayn when he first entered that he didn’t need help preparing anything. Not satisfied with the shrug, Liam pressed on.

            “It’s just, I know how addictions can lead from one thing to another and sometimes change forms and, well, I just wanted to make sure you’re, like…that you’re still eating and everything.”

            “I’m still eating,” Zayn assured him, and admitted, “probably not enough, but it’s not intentional or anything. I just get…distracted. When I was drinking and using, it would never register that I was hungry; just that I needed something to drink, pop, or snort, and I guess that part of me hasn’t really gone back to normal yet.”

            Liam nodded, though Zayn noted the frown he was wearing. He said,

            “Well, I’ve made us two grilled cheeses a piece, but feel free to ask me to make more if you want.”

            “No, no,” Zayn said with a mild laugh. “Two will be plenty. Thank you.”

            “What do you want to drink? Water? Soda?”

            “Got any beer?” Zayn asked, and he truly meant it as a joke, but Liam didn’t appreciate the humor, giving him a reproachful look down the bridge of his nose instead.

            “Kidding,” Zayn told him with a sheepish smile. “Water is fine.”

            Liam set Zayn’s plate and glass in front of him before taking his own and sitting next to his friend. Zayn’s stomach growled again, this time right before he took a bite, and Liam raised an eyebrow.

            “I think I need to invite you over for meals more often,” he said.

            “You don’t have to do that,” Zayn said. “I should start setting my phone to remind me when to eat.”

            Liam shook his head, but his stern expression didn’t last when he looked at Zayn’s face. Smiling, he asked,

            “What am I going to do with you?”

            “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

            The two ate in silence for a couple of minutes, Zayn savoring the pizza grilled cheese as if it were an expensive steak at a five-star restaurant. When he started getting full, which was before he’d even finished his first sandwich, he spoke again.

            “You wanted to talk to me about something?” he reminded the other, who nodded as he chewed. After swallowing, he took a swig of water and then replied.

            “Yeah,” he said, fidgeting with his napkin as if he were nervous about something. Zayn didn’t know why he would be. He and Liam shared almost every deep dark secret along with many private, random and honestly disgusting details about themselves. His nerves only fed into Zayn’s anxiety, and feeling suddenly as if he’d eaten five sandwiches, Zayn subtly pushed his plate back a bit. He didn’t think Liam noticed and, finally, the other spoke again.

            “You may hate the idea and you can tell me no, but, like, you’ve helped me so much in my career and in my life. I want to return the favor. You’ve done such a great job getting back on your feet, but, um, that tweet you posted and deleted about feeling lost kind of broke my heart and, if it’s possible, I want to help you find your purpose and happiness again.”

            Zayn thought he had gotten away with that tweet. He’d deleted it only moments after initially posting it; before any fan had a chance to screenshot it. There had been minimal talk about the incident and peoples’ interest and concern waned quickly, so it was never brought up to Zayn by his team or anyone else.

            _I’m okay_ , Zayn almost told Liam, except that he was tired of spitting that lie, especially when it was apparent Liam didn’t believe him anyway. So instead, with his voice soft and threatening to crack, he asked,

            “How do you suggest we do that?”

            “Well,” Liam began, still seeming nervous. He paused and then sighed, sadness in his eyes as he turned his barstool so that he was facing Zayn. His voice was soft when he began again, and Zayn even thought he was fighting off tears. “Louis told me about what happened with your family, which is…terrible. I never brought it up because I know you don’t need the reminder, but also because I’m not really sure what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ won’t make it better, but I am so, so sorry…But anyway, even though there’s no getting over what happened or replacing your family, I was thinking it may help you to be around people who love you.”

            “Okay…,” Zayn said. “I’m still not understanding.”

            Liam took another deep breath, gave a quick, nervous smile and then said,

            “I want you to go on tour with me. You never got to tour your last album, which is a shame because it was such a fantastic record. If you go on tour with me, you will be doing something you love almost every night and you’ll never be alone unless you want to be. You will be surrounded by people who love you; your fans, your team…and me.”

            Zayn stared at Liam, wondering where he’d gotten this idea, before coming to the obvious conclusion.

            “Did Martin set you up to this?” he asked. Liam shook his head quickly.

            “No. He’s not even aware of this idea yet. I talked to my manager about it and he thought it was a good one, but I wanted to ask you before bringing it up to your team because I want it to be your decision; not theirs.”

            “Liam, you don’t want me on tour with you,” Zayn said. “I’m a joke; just some washed up gay popstar who got addicted to drugs and alcohol like the rest of Hollywood. People won’t be coming to watch me sing. They’ll be coming to see if I fall again.”

            “Then let them come see that you _won’t_ fall and that you’re still the same talented guy they’ve watched grow up. People love a train wreck, Z, but they also love a success story. There can’t be true success without hardships. They’ve seen that part, so why don’t you show them that not only are you strong enough to overcome those hardships, but to completely dominate them?”

            “Because I haven’t dominated anything, Li,” Zayn said. “I’m not the same man that I was before. I don’t think I ever will be.”

            “Okay, maybe not the same, but just as talented, just as wonderful, and maybe even stronger than before.”

            “I don’t know,” Zayn said, even though he found that he truly wanted to say yes. “Everything about my future is questionable right now. I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

            “You won’t,” Liam assured him. “I think if you choose to go on tour, you’ll come out of it on top, but even if not, you aren’t responsible for me. I am. I’m choosing to ask you to come on tour with me. I _want_ you there with me. All you can do is say yes or no, and all I can do is perform the best that I can each night no matter who is on the stage with me.”

            “I’ll think about it,” Zayn said, ignoring the voice inside screaming at him to say yes.

            “I hope you do,” Liam said. “And I hope you say yes.”

            “You know it’s not your job to help me, Li? It doesn’t matter if I’ve helped you. You don’t owe me anything.”

            “I know,” Liam said, sounding as if he meant it, “but we’re mates, and I want to help you. You, your health, and your happiness are important to me, so I’m being kind of selfish, really.”

            Zayn laughed, rolling his eyes at the other.

            “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know that?”

            Liam didn’t answer, but the way he was smiling at Zayn hinted that he already knew and wouldn’t change a thing. He shouldn’t, Zayn wanted to tell him; he was perfect just the way he was.

            After staring at each other for a good few seconds, in a way that used to mean they were about to kiss, Liam turned his head and took another bite of his sandwich.

            “Alright, I’m full,” he said afterward.

            “Me too,” Zayn agreed, and was happy that Liam didn’t say a word about him not even touching his second sandwich. “I want to take you to dinner tonight though to celebrate your album.”

            “Oh, thank you, but you don’t have to,” Liam said, grinning while he turned a light shade of pink.

            “I’d like to,” Zayn said. “Have you seen the charts? You’re killing it! It’s a proper cause for celebration.”

            His blush deepening, Liam’s smile also became wider.

            “Thanks,” he said. “We can go to dinner if you really want to, but in the meantime, do you want to go for a swim in my pool one last time before I close it up for the year? You can borrow a pair of my trunks, though I’m not sure they’ll stay up on you.”

            Zayn agreed, and Liam’s trunks did stay up on him after he double tied the drawstring. While Liam did laps around the pool, Zayn laid on a lounger, floating lazily through the water.

            “You know what would be great right now?” Zayn asked Liam, who was halfway across the pool, but kicked off from the nearest wall to reach Zayn and rest his arms gently on the lounger.

            “What?” he asked, squinting up at Zayn and looking quite adorable.

            “A cocktail.”

            Narrowing his eyes, Liam flicked a tiny speck of water at Zayn, who laughed and splashed him.

            “You’re a bad boy who doesn’t need a cocktail,” Liam said after wiping as much water as he could from his face.

            “I didn’t say I needed one. I said having one would be great.”

            Liam shook his head, then gave an ornery smile.

            “You know what would be better than a cocktail?”

            “What?”

            “If you got in the water with me.”

            “Um…nope,” Zayn replied, turning his head away from Liam and closing his eyes against the sun. Liam tugged on his hand gently, not even enough to move his body in the slightest.

            “Come on, Zaynie,” he pleaded. “We can go to the shallow end.”

            “Nope.”

            “Better yet, I could teach you to swim.”

            “Definitely not.”

            Throughout his busy childhood, Zayn never had the opportunity to learn to swim, as it hadn’t been a skill he’d needed in any of his projects. Ever since finding that out, Liam had been determined to teach him, for some reason, but Zayn was always full of too much pride. Though his pride was now gone, he was a stubborn individual and learning to swim didn’t sound like something he needed to waste his time on.

            “Why not?” Liam asked.

            “We’re going out to eat tonight,” Zayn said; always coming up with a different excuse. “My hair is done, and I don’t want to smell like chlorine when we go.”

            “Well, Z, I know this is hard to believe, but I do have styling products and, even more astonishing, a shower.”

            “You do?!” Zayn asked, looking at Liam with wide eyes and putting his hand on his chest in false shock. With a laugh, Liam splashed him with a bit more water than last time, but he was still careful to not get any near his face.

            “Get in the pool, Zaynie! Pleeeeease?”

            “You just want to see me wet,” Zayn accused, and Liam snorted, half in amusement and half surprise. He recovered quickly and replied,

            “So what if I do?”

            Extending a leg, Liam watched as Zayn slowly (and as seductively as he could) dipped a toe in the water before resting both legs back on his lounger.

            “There,” he said.

            “You’re a little shit,” Liam said with a laugh, splashing Zayn once again. Zayn gasped as he felt water hit his hair and Liam giggled nervously, a small ‘oops’ escaping from him.

            “Oops is right,” Zayn said, splashing Liam, who yelled and dove underneath the water. Moving his arms as fast as he could, Zayn launched himself and the lounger towards him. Liam yelled again and splashed water towards his friend. He was back underneath the water before Zayn could retaliate, but underestimating his proximity to Zayn, Liam kicked the lounger in his attempt to get away, sending it floating right out from underneath Zayn, who fell as if he were being sucked down to the bottom of the pool.

            _This is it,_ Zayn thought as he splashed and kicked, fruitlessly trying to make his way back to the top. _This is where it ends._

            Zayn was just starting to debate whether his family would come to his funeral or not when suddenly, the world became brighter and air filled his lungs. He gasped and he sputtered as a strong hand patted him gently on the back, and then he became aware of his legs wrapped around Liam’s waist as the other cradled him against his body.

            “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Liam said, his own voice shaky as he went from patting Zayn’s back to rubbing it and then to playing with the back of his hair. “You’re okay, I’ve got you, you’re okay…”

            Zayn coughed a couple more times as his brain made the final reconnections to his body and he realized that he was, in fact, alright.

            “Jesus, mate, if you were changing your mind about me joining you on tour, you could have just said so; you don’t have to kill me to get out of it.”

            Liam laughed, pulling away from Zayn enough to look at him, but keeping a tight hold around the smaller man’s body.

            “Yes, that was exactly what I was doing,” he said sarcastically, but Zayn pretended not to notice his tone.

            “I thought it was.”

            “Well, you know what? That would have never happened if you’d have let me teach you how to swim!”

            “Oh, so it’s _my_ fault you almost murdered me?!” Zayn asked with a laugh.

            “Not to victim blame, but kind of, yeah.”

            “Wow. What a dick. Wait until I tell the world that America’s Sweetheart tried to brutally murder me and then had the audacity to say that it was my fault.”

            “Shut up,” Liam said with a laugh. He shifted in the water, and Zayn gasped, his legs tightening around Liam’s middle as he gripped the other’s biceps, but Liam didn’t even come close to letting go of him.

            “I’ve got you,” he assured him again. “Do you trust me?”

            “Do I trust you?! You just tried to kill me!”

            “Oh, hush. I mean really. Do you trust me?”

            Zayn knew that he did. There hadn’t ever been a time he didn’t trust Liam, but he’d trusted other people before who had done awful things to him. Still, even in the darkest, most scarred part of his heart, he knew that Liam wouldn’t be one of those people.

            “Yes,” Zayn admitted. “I trust you.”

            “Okay then. Uncurl your legs. I’ve got your waist.”

            Reluctantly, Zayn did. (He trusted Liam, but that didn’t mean accidents couldn’t happen.) Still, Liam kept a firm hold on Zayn’s waist, holding him upright in the water as Zayn’s feet kicked, panic starting to overwhelm him.

            “Kick slower,” Liam instructed. “Move your legs back and forth rhythmically.”

            “Liam, you’ve seen me dance. I have no rhythm.”

            Smiling, Liam said,

            “I like your dance style. It’s unique.”

            Zayn laughed, but attempted to do as Liam instructed and gain control over his legs’ movement.

            “Good job,” Liam said. “Now glide your arms back and forth across the top of the water.”

            “Didn’t I say you weren’t teaching me how to swim today?”

            “Yeah, but your hair’s already a disaster anyway, so what’s your excuse now?”

            “Um…that I’m traumatized and need to rest after my near-death experience!”

            “You were under water for less than ten seconds; probably no more than five, really, you drama king.”

            “So what? If I’d swallowed water, I’d have already been dead.”

            “You were flailing around like you were having a seizure. I knew you weren’t dead.”

            “I _thought_ I was dying.”

            “I know, and that is why I want to teach you! What will happen if you fall under water when I’m not around?”

            “That won’t happen because I only get in the water with you. Take me to the edge, please.”

            Liam sighed, but obeyed, supporting Zayn as he got out of the pool and sat with his feet dangling in instead. Crossing his arms and resting them on Zayn’s legs, Liam looked up at him, wordlessly studying his features that Zayn thought he should have memorized by now. He didn’t complain, though, because that gave Zayn a chance to study Liam as well. Even though he knew what he looked like well enough to draw a portrait, the image in his mind could never compare to the real thing.

            “Say yes, Zaynie,” Liam finally asked of him after probably a full minute had passed. “I’ve missed you. I don’t want to go months without seeing you again.”

            “When does it start?” Zayn asked.

            “The end of next month.”

            “And you don’t already have an opener?!”

            “I have one; she’ll be the very first to go on. I was holding out on finding another because I really wanted to ask you. I’ve wanted to ask you for a while, but the timing was never right.”

            “It would be nice to break my mundane routine, I guess,” Zayn said, even though the thought of not having that routine made him uneasy. It was still better than saying ‘it would be nice seeing your face every day’ to the guy he’d turned down and hurt time and time again.

            “Yes,” Liam agreed. “You could travel the world and maybe remind yourself that there are beautiful things in life, and maybe when there are so many fans screaming your name every night, it will help you remember that you are one of them.”

            Choking up, Zayn wanted to make a snarky remark about how cheesy Liam was, but found that he couldn’t. Instead, he simply nodded, and his heart fluttered when Liam’s wide, eye-crinkling smile broke across his face.

            “Yeah?” he asked, as if he didn’t believe that he’d actually seen Zayn agree.

            “Yeah,” Zayn finally said. “I’ll do it. I’ll go on tour with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me if it takes a little more than a week to get the next chapter out. I'm getting ready for some (positive) life changes! I hope you enjoyed this slightly happier chapter :)


	5. Good Guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I said my update would be a little late, I didn't expect it to be a whole week late. Sorry about that! This chapter is only a flashback, which I think I'll do every now and then, but I'll know for sure after I finish outlining this story :) I promise to have the next chapter up in at least one week!

_Zayn thought the look of amazement was going to end up frozen on Liam’s face. He’d been wearing it when Zayn opened the door after picking him up at home and Liam saw his new Volvo-a model that hadn’t even been officially put on the market yet. It lasted all throughout the drive as Liam checked out the features and it didn’t budge when they reached the studio and went inside._

_Smiling to himself, Zayn said hello to the man who had produced his first album as Liam took in his surroundings. Once he finally made his way over, Zayn introduced him and the producer, and, still, Liam looked as if he’d entered a wonderful alternate universe._

_“So, you’re going to sing, right?” Zayn asked, finally causing Liam to snap his mouth shut as he glanced to the producer nervously before looking back at Zayn._

_“I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t think I would be singing in front of…other people.”_

_Getting the hint, Zayn’s former producer shot him a smile and said,_

_“I’m stepping out for a few errands. You two will have the place to yourselves for a bit. I’ll call on the way back and see if you want me to pick up anything to eat.”_

_Zayn thanked him as Liam offered a nod and a smile, which was returned before the older man left. This was the first time Zayn and Liam had been truly alone since they’d met, and Zayn had that funny feeling returned to his stomach._

_“So…,” he said again, and Liam laughed, shaking his hands with anxiety._

_“I don’t know! I’ve never sang in front of you before! It’s nerve-wracking!”_

_“You have, actually,” Zayn reminded him._

_“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were there!”_

_“Still, I’ve heard your voice and I think you’re amazing, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”_

_“I think you just happened to be drunk enough that night to think I was good,” Liam said, but Zayn shook his head._

_“I’d only had a few sips. You’re good, mate; great, even. I want you to hear that too.”_

_Smiling nervously, Liam nodded and then headed to the door to enter the sound booth, taking deep breaths all the while. Upon reaching the door, he pulled instead of pushing and ran directly into it, but Zayn had a great poker face and kept messing with the knobs on the switchboard, pretending he didn’t notice anything._

_“What are you singing?” Zayn asked the other._

_“Um…not one of your songs. That was mortifying,” Liam replied, and Zayn laughed._

_“Alright, then.  Luckily for you, there are millions of other songs in the world that I don’t sing, so what will it be?”_

_Liam ended up picking a song Zayn had never heard before, but Zayn was still blown away. As he’d told Liam, the acoustics in karaoke bars typically weren’t great and so he knew Liam was going to sound even better than he had the first time he’d heard him, but the effortless way he sang and hit every note was something Zayn sometimes struggled to do even after having the best vocal coaches around._

_Once the song was over, Liam blinked as if having to come back to reality and then turned red. Zayn clapped and cheered, making quite a production out of it._

_“That was gorgeous,” he told the other when he exited the sound booth and came back to join Zayn. “What song was that, though? I haven’t heard it before.”_

_“Um…,” Liam hummed, sitting next to Zayn as his blood pressure appeared to skyrocket._

_“What?” Zayn asked._

_“It’s a song called ‘Love You Goodbye.’ I wrote it…”_

_Zayn felt as if his face morphed into the look of amazement that Liam had worn for a good majority of the day._

_“You write music too?!”_

_Smiling as if he were embarrassed, Liam nodded._

_“Mate, what are you waiting for?!” Zayn asked. “You could have been chasing this dream a long time ago.”_

_“Maybe,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I was with my ex for five years and he just wanted us to live normal lives; said he believed in me, but that was the problem. He wouldn’t know how to deal with someone who was a public figure and was gone just as often as he was home.”_

_There were many things Zayn could have said about this information, such as if someone loved him, they would have supported whatever he wanted to do with his own life, but he was caught up on just one word._

_“He?”_

_“Oh,” Liam said-almost gasped-as his red face turned pale. “Yeah, um…sorry, I guess I should have told you. I’m, uh, gay.”_

_“You don’t have to apologize,” Zayn was quick to assure the other, not wanting him to feel bad for something he couldn’t control. “I just wasn’t expecting that, is all.”_

_“Really?” Liam asked, looking somewhat relieved. “I feel like that’s the first thing people see when they look at me.”_

_“I had no idea,” Zayn promised, and Liam smiled, his face finally returning to a normal color._

_“Cool,” he said._

_Zayn hoped the other couldn’t hear his heartbeat threatening to escape from his chest. He kept playing with the knobs on the switchboard absently; not really paying attention to what he was doing anymore as he fought with himself to say something, but also to remain quiet. Zayn’s head and heart were pulling him in two different directions, and whichever one wanted him to speak out ended up winning._

_“I know how you feel, though,” he told Liam, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “I feel like that’s all people see as they’re looking at me, too.”_

_Zayn would not have been surprised if Liam gave himself whiplash from how quickly he turned his head to look at Zayn. Eventually, when he didn’t move his gaze, Zayn was left with not much choice but to look back, and Liam smiled at him in an almost comforting manner._

_“Please don’t tell, though,” Zayn added. “You know, just in case that **isn’t** what people see when they look at me.”_

_“I won’t tell anyone,” Liam assured him._

_“I’m serious,” Zayn made sure to reiterate, his anxiety already rising once again as it settled in that he had told Liam-this guy he barely knew-his deepest, darkest secret._

_Well, maybe not quite the deepest or darkest, but close._

_“My family doesn’t even know and with my dad’s culture- **my** culture-it really would not go over well. I haven’t even decided when I’m going to break the news to them, so please don’t say anything.”_

_“I won’t, I swear,” Liam said, looking a bit offended that Zayn didn’t believe him the first time. He quickly smiled again, though, and said, “I hope your family realizes there’s nothing wrong with it when you do tell them, though, and that it doesn’t change who you are as a person.”_

_“Thanks,” Zayn said, though he couldn’t see that happening. “Is your family cool with it, then?”_

_“Yeah,” Liam said. “I started dating my first and, so far, only boyfriend when I was thirteen and my dad kept telling me that I was confused or that it was a phase, but as the years passed and we were still together, he realized that I wasn’t confused at all and that I wasn’t going to change, and so he accepted it. It was weird for him, for a while, and sometimes I’m still the butt of inappropriate gay jokes, but he means well. So many people have it worse.”_

_“I’m glad they’re accepting,” Zayn told Liam, though he found himself feeling a bit jealous that Liam had been out for so long and didn’t seem to have had any horror stories about the coming out or the realization experiences._

_“Thanks,” Liam said. He studied Zayn’s face, much like he had the other night at the party, then cleared his throat and looked at the soundboard, his cheeks turning a mild shade of pink. He sure did blush easily, though it made Zayn smile. He didn’t understand how someone could be so cute, hot, manly, and beautiful at the same time, but somehow, Liam was all of those._

_“Do you want to hear your song back now?” Zayn asked, feeling as if a change of subject would do them both good._

_“I guess,” Liam said. “Oh my god, I’m nervous!”_

_“Don’t be,” Zayn said, and began to play Liam’s recording. He smiled as he saw the grin spread across the other man’s face only seconds into the song._

_“See? You’re amazing,” Zayn said._

_“Anyone can sound good with autotune,” Liam argued._

_“Yeah, but I didn’t use autotune,” Zayn said. “I adjusted the volume and magnitude of your vocals, but everything else is all you.”_

_“Really?” Liam asked, his smile giving way to absolute shock. Zayn couldn’t help but to give a small laugh._

_“Absolutely.”_

_Something that looked close to pride crossed Liam’s face, and Zayn started to relax again. It was hard to feel anything but happiness when the man sitting next to him was radiating so much joy._

_“Oh. Wow. I mean, I was definitely pitchy in a few parts, but that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.’_

_“Shut up,” Zayn snorted, shoving Liam gently. “It’s fantastic and you know it.”_

_Liam smiled, seeming not to want to comment either way. He was humble, Zayn noted, which could work either for or against him in the industry._

_“Anyway, it’s your turn, right?” Liam asked after the song had ended. His face had turned from pink to light red, but Zayn wasn’t a cruel enough person to point it out._

_“My turn?” he asked._

_“Yeah. You said you’d play a couple songs for me since I couldn’t go to your show on account of my nan choosing to ruin my plans.”_

_“Will you be nice to your dead grandmother?” Zayn asked, laughing again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much._

_“She always loved my sense of humor,” Liam explained with a smile. “I’m sure she’s up there cracking up right now.”_

_“Alright,” Zayn said, a smile still on his face as he shook his head. “I guess I can sing a couple songs for you, but then you’ve got to sing again, okay? That one was great, like I said, but I want a few different recordings to show producers later.”_

_The red instantly left Liam’s face as he paled again. Zayn was starting to worry about the multitude of emotions Liam seemed able to experience in such a small amount of time; and the things those emotions seemingly did to his blood pressure._

_“What?” he asked._

_“You don’t think I can honestly let your talent go unnoticed?” Zayn asked. “If you don’t want to pursue a career in music that’s fine, but I’m showing them anyway so that you know you **can** , if you choose to.”_

_Liam shook his head robotically, seeming to be in a state of semi-shock._

_“They’re going to laugh at me,” he said._

_“Nah,” Zayn told him simply. “I don’t expect you to believe me yet, but you’ll see.”_

_Standing up, Zayn stretched his arms above his head and sighed before giving his companion another quick smile._

_“So which songs do you want to hear?”_

_After Zayn performed for Liam, who had watched him with the same awestruck look he’d worn for most of the day, Zayn prodded him enough to go back into the sound booth and record a couple more songs. The first was another original called ‘Get Low,’ which was hot, and Zayn was glad when Liam followed it up with a depressing cover of ‘Beautiful Goodbye’ by Maroon 5._

_Zayn and Liam were playing with the recordings, adding auto-tune to some parts, changing the pitch, and speeding it up or slowing it down, trying to see both how good and how awful they could make the vocals sound (of course, Zayn had kept a copy of the originals) when his former producer texted him to ask if the two wanted anything to eat. It was then that Liam admitted he was starving, so Zayn had the man pick up a couple of sandwiches._

_“He’s not going to want to hear the recordings, is he?” Liam asked, looking horrified as the realization of the possibility dawned on him._

_“I don’t know,” Zayn said. “He might, but I can always tell him to wait until we leave.”_

_Liam groaned as he rubbed his palms across his jeans nervously._

_“Why did I let you talk me into this?” he asked._

_“Because you secretly know you’re amazing,” Zayn accused, but Liam shook his head._

_“I don’t think that’s it,” he disagreed. Zayn said,_

_“Well, it must just be because I’m so damn cute, then.”_

_Panic started welling up in Zayn again when Liam looked at him without saying a word for a few moments. There was a small smile on his face, but Zayn couldn’t read if it was sincere or not and was mentally preparing for Liam to tell him he was disgusting and that he didn’t find him cute at all when Liam said,_

_“Yeah, that was probably it.”_

_Luckily for Liam, Zayn’s former producer didn’t ask to listen to his music while he was there. After they ate, Zayn announced that they should be going, as he could sense Liam’s rising anxiety, though he did make sure to text the older man as soon as he was in the car to ask him to listen to Liam’s recordings. Then, he turned back to Liam._

_“Are you ready to go home or do you want to do something else?” he asked._

_“We can do something else,” Liam said quickly, and then quietly cleared his throat before adding, “If you want to.”_

_“Wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t,” Zayn told him. “Any ideas on what exactly we do, though?”_

_Eventually, the two decided on a movie. Zayn could usually see a film without too much attention if he went in a little late, after the previews had started, and left as soon as the credits began to roll. There wasn’t much playing, so they chose some over-the-top comedy, which ended up being quite dumb, but Zayn didn’t mind because it made Liam laugh._

_Though he didn’t want to, Zayn took Liam home after the film. He wasn’t ready to be seen with another guy in public. As much as he tried to convince himself no one would think anything of it and assume Liam was a friend-which he was-he feared that someone would be able to sense the growing feelings Zayn seemed to be developing for the man, and one person was all it would take to ruin Zayn’s life._

_Perhaps Zayn should finally invest in a small flat in his hometown to stay at during his visits, but he noted that probably would not be necessary. Liam would likely get bored of him once he went back to California, and they likely wouldn’t be talking anymore whenever he decided to make his way to England again._

_“Thanks for today,” Liam said before getting out of the car. “I had a really good time.”_

_“I should be thanking you,” Zayn said. “You bought my movie ticket.”_

_Liam smiled, giving a small shrug with one shoulder._

_“Just because you have more money than me doesn’t mean you should pay for everything. You let me record some of my own music in a professional studio, and whatever happens or doesn’t happen, it was an amazing experience. So no, thank you.”_

_“You are welcome,” Zayn assured him. “I’m sure they’re going to love your songs, but I’ll let you know.”_

_“If they say I’m awful, then please don’t tell me,” Liam said with a small laugh, though he was visibly concerned. Zayn rolled his eyes but had a small smile on his own face._

_“They’re not going to say you’re awful because you’re not,” he said._

_“Thanks,” Liam said again. “Just…really, truly…thank you.”_

_“Of course,” Zayn said, not sure why the sincerity in Liam’s voice threatened to make him emotional. He blamed his recently concluded tour. It always took a month or so for him to go back to normal after being so nervous, exhausted, and excited every night._

_It was only when Zayn reached home that true panic struck him, and he did what he usually did in these times; called Louis._

_“Hey!” Louis answered quickly. “How did it go with Liam?”_

_“Louis, I fucked up,” Zayn said, cupping his hand around the receiver so that he could whisper to Louis and his family wouldn’t overhear their conversation._

_“What do you mean? What are you doing? Where are you? Are you okay?”_

_“I’m home; I just dropped Liam off, but I messed up so bad.”_

_“How?”_

_“Liam performed some of his songs for me and the first one had male pronouns, so he told me he’s gay-”_

_“I knew it!” Louis said in a sing-song voice, apparently forgetting that this was a serious conversation._

_“Shut up,” Zayn told him. “I told him too.”_

_“You told him to what?”_

_“No! I told him that I’m…you know…”_

_“Gay?”_

_“Obviously. Why the fuck would I do that, Lou?! What was I thinking?!”_

_“Probably that you clearly want his dick,” Louis said simply. Zayn gasped._

_“Lou!”_

_“Z, there’s nothing wrong with it,” his friend told him, his voice softer; slightly more comforting. “Remember when I told you I was gay with tears running down my face as I nearly fainted from hyperventilation and you laughed and told me to relax; that I was still the same person, destined for the same great things and all that it changed was that I had one less hole to stick it in during sex?”_

_“Yeah, but that was you.”_

_“Why is it okay for me to be gay and not you; in your mind?” Louis questioned, sounding as if he genuinely wanted to know. But he couldn’t know. Zayn couldn’t tell him or anyone. It was a deep dark secret that he would take to his grave because no one needed to know how disgusting and filthy he truly was._

_His skin started to itch from the dirt Zayn felt caking up on it; dirt that he couldn’t see, but he knew had to be there._

_“I don’t know,” he said to Louis. “I guess I just still have some adjusting and coming to terms to do.”_

_“I get it,” Louis said, not unsympathetically. “I hope you get there, Z, because you deserve to love yourself, no matter your sexuality. And besides, dick is great.”_

_Zayn snorted, shaking his head at his friend even though he couldn’t see it._

_“As long as Liam doesn’t let it slip, I guess there was really no harm done.”_

_“I don’t think he seems like the type, do you?”_

_“Doesn’t seem to be, but I barely know him.”_

_“Well, if he does, tell everyone he’s lying and then I’ll beat him up for you.”_

_Again, Zayn couldn’t help but to laugh. Even though he still felt dirty and sick, there was rarely a time his best friend couldn’t cheer him up at least a little._

_“Thanks, Lou.”_

_“No problem.”_

_“I’m going to get off here, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”_

_“Alright, mate. Try not to stress.”_

_“I’ll try, but you know I’m not very good at that.”_

_“Yes; unfortunately, I am very aware.”_

_Zayn and Louis said their final goodbyes and then Zayn rushed to the bathroom, where he stripped down, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror, and took a scalding shower; not getting out until his skin was red and sore._


	6. Rear View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up yesterday, but then life happened...Sorry for my inconsistencies.

            _Zayn was woken in the morning by an incoming call from his former producer. Normally that would make him grumpy, and he wouldn’t be shy about letting the other person know it either, but, one, it was after eleven in the morning and two, he was ready to hear it confirmed from someone else that Liam was absolutely amazing._

_“‘Lo?” he answered, a smile on his face even though he had yet to be able to successfully open his eyes all the way._

_“Whoa, mate, you sound like shit. What happened?” the producer started, and Zayn gave a small laugh._

_“I just woke up.”_

_“Wow. Long night?”_

_“Eh.”_

_Zayn was not about to tell the other man that the ‘long night’ he was suggesting he’d had only consisted of crying and panic attacks after exiting the shower and taking a good look at himself in the mirror. As he moisturized his sore, raw skin, he’d tried to imagine what it would feel like to have Liam massaging the lotion into his body; tried to picture Liam in nothing but a towel taking the massage a little further than necessary. How far Zayn’s imagination could have gone was interrupted, however, by a sick feeling in his stomach and a shame so deep that his face burned and he thought he may faint. He had no right to be thinking such disgusting thoughts about a man who deserved so much more than Zayn was._

_Needing to keep all of this a secret, Zayn spoke again before his former producer could._

_“Have you listened to Liam’s recordings yet?”_

_“Holy fuck, mate!” the other said in response, and Zayn gave a genuine laugh._

_“I told you he’s good.”_

_“Good?! **Good**?! He’s bloody brilliant! I need to proper meet this kid, Zayn. We need him. He’s going to be a star.”_

_“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on,” Zayn said, though his heart was fluttering in happiness for his new friend. “I don’t know if he wants this to be his career.”_

_“What the bloody hell did you bring him in to the studio for, then?”_

_“So that someone else could tell him he’s amazing. He doesn’t seem to believe me, or at least he pretends he doesn’t.”_

_“Are you kidding? I thought I’d started playing the wrong recording; thought it was an album someone was already working on.”_

_“It may as well be. He writes his own music.”_

_“That was all him?”_

_“Yep, except for one.”_

_“Shit, man. We need him.”_

_“I’ll see what I can do,” Zayn promised._

_“There is just one little thing, though, Zayn.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_“He’s going to have to use female pronouns, or gender neutral, in the very least. I respect if he’s gay, but I just don’t think the label or many major talent agencies have room for an openly gay singer right now.”_

_There was that sick feeling again, though it wasn’t about himself this time. Zayn swallowed, unsure of how he hadn’t realized before that in order to make a career from his music, Liam was going to have to hide a part of himself that he seemed quite proud of. Every single famous person alive wore a mask of sorts but accentuating or toning down parts of one’s personality was different than hiding their sexuality or pretending they were another way. Of course, the choice would be up to Liam, but it was likely going to come down between being an openly gay man or living a life with a great career that he would excel at._

_“Oh, yeah,” Zayn said, and then cleared his throat, feeling that his emotions were too evident in his voice. If he were notably upset, the other may put the pieces together and realize that Zayn had too deep of feelings on this topic and then he would realize that he, too, was gay. “I’ll mention that to him.”_

_“No disrespect meant, of course.”_

_“Of course.”_

_It was disrespectful, in Zayn’s opinion, to expect Liam to change such a harmless lyric, but it wasn’t the producer’s fault; it was society’s._

_“When are you going to talk to him again?” the older man wondered._

_“I’ll call him today and let you know later.”_

_“Aces! He’s such a good find, Zayn. If things work out, I owe you one, mate.”_

_“Just…do your best to make sure he doesn’t get corrupted, alright?”_

_“Of course, Z. We did fine with you, eh?”_

_Zayn made an involuntary noise of disagreement that he hid by clearing his throat. He didn’t hide it well, though, because the other asked,_

_“Are you sure you’re good, Zayn?”_

_“Yeah,” he said. “Just need my morning tea to wake my voice up. I’ll talk to you later, alright?”_

_“Yeah, call me tonight!”_

_“Perhaps.”_

_“Zayn Javaad Malik!”_

_“Tonight…or tomorrow,” Zayn said. “Either way, I’ll talk to you soon.”_

_After a disgruntled grunt came from the other man, the two said proper goodbyes and disconnected the call. Groaning, Zayn sat up and stretched his arms above his head, slowly getting out of bed. His eyes were sore and he was a bit light-headed, but the latter likely came from not having eaten in almost fifteen hours. After prodding to the bathroom to wash his hands, use eyedrops, and wash his hands again, Zayn went downstairs. Through the back patio door, Zayn saw his mother outside reading a book and after making himself a cup of tea and a piece of toast, he went out to join her._

_“There you are!” she said, standing to give Zayn a kiss on the cheek before he sat with her at the patio table. “I was getting worried. Are you feeling okay, honey?”_

_“Yeah, mum, I’m fine,” Zayn said. The woman eyed his mere piece of toast suspiciously._

_“Are you sure?” she prodded. “You went to bed early and slept late.”_

_“I’m still trying to adjust from tour,” Zayn assured her, not letting her know that just because he went to bed at eight o’ clock didn’t mean he’d fallen asleep._

_“Alright,” the woman said, sounding unsure but deciding to let it slide. After putting her bookmark in her book and setting it down on the table, she clasped her hands together and smiled at Zayn._

_“What?” he asked, his mouth full of bread, but his mom was unconcerned over his lack of manners._

_“Just looking at you,” she said. “I don’t see you nearly enough.”_

_“I know, mum. I visit when I can.”_

_“I know you do, sweetie.”_

_After a moment, the woman sighed._

_“I hate doing this when we don’t see you much anyway, but your father and I are going to London this afternoon and spending the night.”_

_“That sounds fun. What are you doing there?”_

_“Seeing a play. It took me over twenty years of marriage to convince him to see a play with me, but he finally surprised me with tickets for my birthday.”_

_“Oh, yeah, I remember that,” Zayn said. “I just didn’t realize it was tonight. That will be fun! I’m glad he’s taking you.”_

_“Yeah,” she said. “Luckily, before him, I had my sweet son to take me.”_

_Zayn smiled as his mom brushed her thumb against his cheek. Sometimes she still treated him like a child, but most mothers had a tendency to do that, even when they got to properly watch their children grow up. Unlike most adult children, Zayn typically didn’t mind, as long as it wasn’t in front of his friends, of course._

_“Anything for you, mum,” Zayn said, “but I’m glad he’s taking you. You deserve it.”_

_“Thank you, love. I just wish it wasn’t tonight.”_

_“I’ll be fine. I can somewhat take care of myself and we’ve still got a little more than a week together once you get back. Don’t worry about me and enjoy yourself tonight.”_

_“I will.”_

_The woman smiled sweetly at Zayn and then added,_

_“Your sisters are staying with friends tonight, so you don’t have to look after them.”_

_“I wouldn’t mind, but they’ll probably have more fun with their friends,” Zayn said, and then inspiration struck. “Hey, mum, do you think I can invite a friend over here tonight then?”_

_“Which friend?” she asked. “Louis?”_

_The way she said his name-so emotionless, unlike the motherly tone she used to use with him before he came out of the closet-almost made Zayn outwardly cringe._

_“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe.”_

_“Zayn, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me.”_

_**Okay** , Zayn tried to say, but found that all he could do was nod. His heart was racing and his head was spinning. He wouldn’t be surprised if he lost all the toast he’d just eaten because he was completely unprepared for this conversation. Though he knew it was illogical, he suddenly felt as if his mom was reading his mind by looking so deeply into his eyes and seeing everything that he’d thought about Liam last night._

_“Is there anything going on between you and Louis?” she finally asked after what Zayn deemed a much too long pause._

_“You mean, like…romantically?” Zayn questioned. The woman closed her eyes for a brief moment, but quickly opened them again and nodded, her expression grim._

_“If there is, you need to tell me so we can figure out how to deal with this, okay?”_

_“Mum, there’s nothing going on with Louis,” Zayn said and then, before he could stop himself, he said, “I just feel bad for him, you know? I’m sure it’s not easy being what he is and now he’s lost his career and a bunch of friends too.”_

_That wasn’t necessarily true. Louis had willingly given up modeling, and he’d only lost one friend that hadn’t been a very good one to begin with. Now that he was out, Louis was happier than ever, and Zayn felt terrible hiding his own insecurities in lies about his friend._

_“Yes, I suppose that would be hard,” the woman said, almost sounding sympathetic. “He can come over, just…don’t tell your father.”_

_Zayn said he wouldn’t, and just like that, his mother moved on to happier topics. Still, Zayn found he couldn’t finish his toast and soon excused himself to take a long, hot shower, the water stinging so bad that it brought tears to his eyes; tears he refused to let fall._

_His regular clothes felt like they were chafing his skin after that, so Zayn got back into pajamas. Those stung as well, but not quite so bad, and Zayn didn’t mind a dull pain; it distracted him from his racing thoughts. Finally, he was able to call Liam._

_“Hello?” he answered quickly, but Zayn could hear a good deal of background noise and felt guilty for interrupting whatever Liam was doing._

_“Hey, what’s up?” he asked._

_“Not much, just on my lunch break,” Liam said._

_“Ah, I forgot you had to work today. Sorry.”_

_“Nothing to apologize for.”_

_“Are you in the food court, then?”_

_“Yeah, can you tell?”_

_“A bit,” Zayn said with a laugh. “What are you eating?”_

_“Just drinking a smoothie,” Liam said. “I’m going to go where it’s quieter.”_

_“A smoothie? That’s a shitty lunch.”_

_“Yeah,” Liam agreed with a small laugh. “I forgot my wallet so I couldn’t buy anything, but my friend works at the smoothie stand, so she helped me out.”_

_“What a good friend.”_

_“I know.”_

_Zayn heard the creaking of a door and the background noise faded. He continued,_

_“What time do you get off?”_

_“Around five.”_

_“Do you want to come over to my place for dinner? Well, technically it’s my parents’ place but they won’t be home.”_

_“Sure, that sounds nice,” Liam said._

_“Aces,” Zayn replied. “I’ve got something to tell you.”_

_“About how awful your producer thinks I am at singing?”_

_“No. Quite the opposite. In fact, I think you could probably put in your two weeks’ notice today if you want to”_

_“I think I’ll refrain, mainly because I can’t comprehend what you’re telling me right now.”_

_Zayn laughed, hoping that Liam’s confidence would soon grow, but that his head would stay right where it’s at and not get lost up his own ass like many others Zayn had seen rise to fame._

_“We’ll talk when you get here,” he said. “You’re going to be starving by five o’ clock if all you have is a smoothie. Can’t you pay with your phone or something?”_

_“Eh, I don’t have any of that fancy stuff set up, but I’ll be okay. My friend gave me a banana to take with me if I get too hungry later.”_

_“Alright,” Zayn said, though it didn’t really sit ‘alright’ with him, and once he and Liam hung up, only because Liam had to go back to work, Zayn got re-dressed, sore skin be damned, put on a hat and thick rimmed glasses, and headed to the mall after stopping for some food._

_Going to the mall was always a bit risky, but it was amazing what his small disguise could sometimes do, especially early on a week day when most of his fans were at work or school. Even Liam had to do a double take as he greeted Zayn in the sports shop where he worked, but as soon as he realized who Zayn was, his face turned a light shade of pink and he stood so quickly from where he’d been kneeling to stock the shelves that he almost fell over._

_“Hey,” Liam said, his embarrassment deepening, but Zayn politely said nothing._

_“Hey,” he said. “I brought you food. I know **I** wouldn’t be able to survive the whole day on a smoothie and a banana, so here you go. It’s literally the exact same thing we had yesterday because I don’t know what else you like, but hopefully it’s better than nothing.”_

_“That’s perfect, actually,” Liam said, smiling as he took the bag and drink from Zayn. “I’m actually, like, starving. Thank you.”_

_“You’re welcome.”_

_Heading to the counter, Liam motioned for Zayn to follow him, which he did. Luckily, the store was empty, so Liam was able to lean on the counter and eat his sandwich in peace._

_“I’ll pay you back tonight,” Liam promised, and Zayn rolled his eyes._

_“You’re not paying me back,” he said. “It’s really fine. It was worth the bit of money for my conscience.”_

_“It’s not your fault I’m a ditz and forgot my wallet,” Liam said._

_“It happens to the best of us,” Zayn assured him. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”_

_“Uh…I don’t care. I’m really not picky.”_

_“What’s your favorite type of food?”_

_“Carbs.”_

_Zayn couldn’t help but to laugh at the mild stress Liam showed on his face over his response._

_“Carbs are great,” Zayn agreed. “So…pasta?”_

_“Pasta is delicious,” Liam said._

_“Alright, then. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”_

_Liam gave a sheepish smile but replied,_

_“I like almost everything else too, if you don’t want pasta.”_

_“We’re having pasta,” Zayn told him. “Tomato sauce or alfredo sauce?”_

_“Surprise me.”_

_“You really don’t have a preference?”_

_Liam, having just taken a bite of his sandwich, shook his head._

_“Okay,” Zayn said. “I will warn you, I’m not the **best** chef. My food is edible, but it won’t be the same as going to a five-star restaurant.”_

_“I can’t confidently say I’ve ever been to a five-star restaurant, so I think I will live,” Liam said._

_“I’ll try to make sure you do.”_

_Liam gave a closed-mouth smile, chewing his last bite of sandwich. He tossed the trash into the nearest bin, took a drink, and then any potential conversation was interrupted by a guest coming into the store. Zayn held in his sigh._

_“I’ll see you when you get off?” he verified._

_“Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m on my way,” Liam assured him. The two said their goodbyes and Zayn slipped out of the shop, managing to stay unnoticed by the customer who looked like they could potentially be a fan._

_By some miracle, Zayn managed to time dinner out just right that night, and it was five minutes away from being ready to eat when Liam arrived. Zayn invited him in, gave him a quick tour, and then poured them both a glass of wine._

_“This place is really nice,” Liam said._

_“Thanks,” Zayn replied. “My parents always said they were going to move one day, but never did. They redecorate every couple of years and have added on to what’s already here, but for some reason, they can’t find it in themselves to leave.”_

_“Memories,” Liam suggested._

_“Maybe,” Zayn said. “The only room that hasn’t really been touched is mine. I’m still sleeping in the same bed I slept in when I was five.”_

_“That’s kind of cute, but also, isn’t that mattress killing you by now?”_

_“Nah. I didn’t use it that much when I was a kid, so it’s in pretty good condition.”_

_“That’s a good point,” Liam said, a slight frown on his face, for some reason. “That’s also kind of sad.”_

_Zayn shrugged noncommittally, as an argument could be made either way and he still wasn’t sure whether or not he was sad about it himself. Luckily, the food was ready then and Zayn handed Liam a plate, telling him to get how much or little he wanted. Zayn found that he was starving, having only eaten that little bit of toast earlier, but he didn’t want to look like a pig in front of Liam, so he started off with a smaller portion._

_“Thank you for inviting me over and for cooking,” Liam said as the two sat at the dining room table._

_“Don’t thank me yet,” Zayn said. “You haven’t tried it. You may hate it.”_

_“I doubt it. Like I said, I’m not picky, and it’s pretty hard to mess up pasta.”_

_“I guess we’ll see.”_

_Zayn held up his glass as if making a toast. Smiling, Liam clinked his against the other’s and they simultaneously took a drink. After setting the glasses back down, Liam said,_

_“So…you had something you wanted to talk to me about?”_

_“Yeah,” Zayn said, bracing himself. He was excited and nervous to tell Liam the news, knowing it could potentially change his life; hopefully for the better but possibly for the worst. “My old producer listened to your songs.”_

_“And…? Remember, white lies are acceptable when protecting someone’s emotional integrity.”_

_Zayn laughed, taking another drink of wine as he shook his head._

_“He loves you already,” Zayn told him. “He said you’re brilliant and amazing and that they need you.”_

_“Yeah right,” Liam said, but his cheeks were, of course, changing color._

_“I’m serious,” Zayn said. “He wants to properly meet you and likely get you started in your musical career; if that’s something you want to do.”_

_“I…uh…wow. I don’t know.”_

_Liam took a drink, downing nearly half of his cup in a single swallow._

_“You don’t have to decide now,” Zayn informed him. “You can think about it, and there is one more thing I need to mention.”_

_“Okay?”_

_“He, uh…Look, I hate telling you this because I think it’s awesome that you embrace who are you and all, but they said you can’t use male pronouns if you’re signed. They have to be female or gender neutral, but preferably female.”_

_“Oh.”_

_Liam was clearly trying to hide the sting that Zayn’s words caused him, but Zayn still saw it-felt it even-and he reached out to quickly and lightly touch Liam’s hand._

_“If it was up to me, you could sing about other blokes all day,” he said, and Liam laughed._

_“I know,” he assured him. “That’s just the way the industry is; not sure why I thought otherwise. Thank you for telling me, though. I’ll take that into consideration too.”_

_“You would do great in this business, I truly believe that, but you have to do what you feel is best for you. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks; only you.”_

_The hurt that Liam had been showing suddenly vanished and he smiled; mimicking Zayn by lightly touching the other’s hand._

_“Thank you.”_

_Zayn nodded and took a bite of his pasta to hide the fact that he truly had no idea what to say. Liam did the same, but soon the two fell into light conversation again._

_After they were through with their main course, Zayn scooped some ice cream into a bowl for each of them and the men settled on the couch to watch a film. Suddenly feeling every bit of his restlessness from last night, Zayn found it hard to stay awake. He hadn’t actually **meant** to do the lame stretch-and-yawn move that men did before putting their arms around their date; he’d merely been trying to stay awake and his arm just so happened to settle behind Liam after he’d worked out all the kinks in his body, but Liam smiled and took that as an invitation to scoot closer. Of course, Zayn wasn’t going to tell him he couldn’t. _

_Just when Zayn didn’t think he was going to be able to keep himself awake any longer and was preparing to tell Liam they may have to finish the second half of the movie at a later date, he noticed that Liam had fallen asleep leaning against him. A wide smile cracking across his face, Zayn retrieved the blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch and put it over the both of them. Slowly, he got himself into a more comfortable position, and while Liam stirred, he didn’t wake. Zayn turned the volume down on the TV, rubbed Liam’s shoulder as he told him goodnight, and then closed his eyes._

_Later, Zayn would wake to find Liam quietly putting on his shoes as he prepped to leave. He would offer for Liam to stay and after a brief debate in which Zayn had to repeatedly tell Liam that he wasn’t intruding, the two went up to Zayn’s small twin-sized bed. They both barely fit and Zayn was halfway on top of Liam just to make it work, but Liam swore he was fine and Zayn was comfortable too; maybe not so much externally, but he felt a peace laying there with Liam that he hadn’t felt since the day he realized that he was gay. Until that moment, he never thought he would feel comfortable, let alone happy, in the presence of any man, even when he was alone with himself._

Martin thought the tour idea was the best plan in the world and claimed he had been thinking the same thing as Liam. Zayn didn’t bother calling him on the lie, as the man believed whatever he wanted to anyway. When Zayn told Liam he’d gotten his manager’s approval, his friend had sounded legitimately excited, and for just a moment, Zayn got that warm, whole feeling that he used to get while lying in bed with the other man.

            Together, Liam and Zayn made a rough draft of their set list (it had to be approved by their respective teams, of course), and Zayn had enjoyed both giving Liam feedback on the songs he thought would do extremely well live and receiving feedback in return. Liam asked,

            “Have you written any new music recently?”

            “Yeah, but I don’t know if any of them are ready,” Zayn said.

            “I’m sure that’s not true,” Liam told him. “I bet they’re great as always!”

            “Thanks, but no,” Zayn said. “I think I’ve forgotten how to write or something. All of my new shit sounds the same, and it’s nothing particularly mind-blowing either.”

            “Can I hear one of them?”

            Zayn shook his head ‘no’ and Liam gave a small frown.

            “Why not?” he asked. “I’m only here for constructive criticism and support. It’s not like I’ll think any less of you no matter what the song sounds like.”

            “I’m not emotionally ready for the bloke who’s had his album as number one and two on all the top charts for two weeks now tell me my new music sucks,” Zayn said.

            “I would never tell you that,” Liam said softly, appearing hurt that Zayn would accuse him of such a thing.

            “I would see the truth in your eyes,” Zayn claimed. It was Liam’s turn to shake his head.

            “The truth would be that your new music doesn’t suck because none of your music is ever bad.”

            “You’ve only heard the stuff that made the album.”

            “True,” Liam said, his brow creasing together. “Why is that?”

            “No one hears the stuff that doesn’t make the album besides whoever is producing my album, and sometimes not even them.”

            “It’s me, though.”

            “And…? Why would I subject you to my music that wasn’t good enough for an album?”

            “Just because it didn’t make the album doesn’t mean it’s not good. Some of my favorite songs of my own have never been on an album because they don’t fit or aren’t what’s popular right now, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t good songs.”

Zayn shrugged and gave a sigh.

            “I don’t know, mate. It’s like all I do is exercise and write music, but I still feel weak, and the more I write, the shitter it all sounds.”

            Liam gave Zayn a sad look, gently tapping his foot with his own.

            “I’m positive your music isn’t shitty, and you’re not weak, but you would probably have better results at the gym if you ate regularly.”

            After glancing at his watch, Liam added,

            “Speaking of, it’s about lunch time. How about we go grab something to eat and go back to your place? We can go into the studio and you can show me what you’re working on. Maybe I can help turn it into something you like. Sometimes all a good song needs is a fresh ear to help it grow.”

            “I’m telling you, you don’t want to hear that shit,” Zayn said, taking the hand Liam was offering to help him off the floor.

            “I’m telling you I do,” Liam insisted. “How about you head on over and I’ll stop and grab us some lunch before meeting you there?”

            Reluctantly, Zayn agreed. When Liam asked what he wanted, Zayn told him to surprise him and then went about his way. Upon arriving home, he went into his studio and played back some of the things he’d recorded. He dreaded Liam hearing them and began regretting the decision to tour, as it seemed his talent had left him already. He couldn’t back out now though-literally, since he’d signed a contract-and hoped that Liam would be able to salvage some of his songs.

            It didn’t take long for Liam to arrive, bearing food, and after eating, Zayn took him to the studio, shaking as he prepared to let someone else listen to his new music for the first time.

            “Remember, I already know it’s not good,” Zayn said, and Liam rolled his eyes.

            “Hush it. You sound like me the first time you took me to the studio.”

            “There’s a difference,” Zayn said. “You actually are good.”

            “So are you! You’ve been doing this for years.”

            “Yeah, but I think I like…forgot how.”

            “Well, I’ll help you remember, then.”

            Nodding, and knowing deep down that Liam would be too nice to show just how awful he found his new songs, Zayn began playing the one that made him cringe the least. Liam listened attentively, a small smile on his face. When the song was over, he said,

            “I liked it.”

            Zayn gave him a doubtful look and played one of the cringier ones next; trying to prove his point to Liam that he was now a talentless wash-up. Again, Liam wore a smile while he listened, and when the song finished, he sat up straighter.

            “These aren’t bad songs, Zayn. They’re very put together and you sound amazing; they’re just…not you.”

            Zayn raised an eyebrow, silently asking Liam to explain, so he did.

            “Inspiration is what you’re lacking, Z. There’s no emotion in the song. Anyone could sing it and relate to the words, which isn’t inherently a bad thing, but your songs are typically personal, whether it be about struggles, your affection, or your sex life.”

            “All of those have recently gotten me into a fair bit of trouble,” Zayn pointed out. “It’s probably best I don’t think about them, wouldn’t you agree?”

            “No, actually,” Liam said. “Almost everyone has had someone betray them and everyone has made bad decisions. You can’t just brush them aside or pretend they didn’t happen. You take the lessons that they taught you and make the best of them. If you can, you pass those lessons on to others to help them avoid or deal with similar situations. If you bury it all, you’re not really healing, Zayn. I want you to heal. I want you to feel like you again.”

            Zayn didn’t have the heart to tell Liam that he didn’t necessarily want that. It depended on what version of Zayn Liam wanted, he supposed.

            “Maybe start a journal,” Liam suggested. “Write about whatever you need to get off your chest and then make it into a song. It’s scary, but that’s what I do when I feel my music is getting stale.”

            “I’ll think about it,” Zayn said noncommittally, though he probably wouldn’t think about it too hard. Zayn wasn’t the type to keep a journal; didn’t see what rehashing the past and bringing up the pain would do. He didn’t understand how that could be a release when all it would do is immortalize the awful feelings.

            Deciding not to argue anymore, Liam said,

            “I liked both songs, but I really think you should sing the first one on tour.”

            Zayn simply laughed, and after giving him a kind smile, Liam leaned back in his chair, relaxing, and thankfully changed the subject.

            “I might be single for tour,” he said.

            “Things with Thomas aren’t going well?” Zayn asked sympathetically, though he’d already gotten that feeling from the depressing songs on Liam’s album.

            “Thomas and I have been over,” Liam said with a slight laugh. “Thought you knew that.”

            “No,” Zayn said. “I got a sense from your album, but I didn’t know for sure.”

            For some reason, his words caused Liam to stare at him, though Zayn couldn’t read his expression, and he shifted uncomfortably. Soon, Liam broke the stare and gave a slight laugh.

            “Yeah, the album,” he said, and continued, “We’ve been broken up since before you left rehab, mate. I meant that the contract between Gianna and I is almost up and there’s talk about not renewing it; they think it will bring more girls to the show or something.”

            “They could be right,” Zayn reasoned. “You wouldn’t be expected to play heartbroken every single night though, would you?”

            “Nah, I don’t think so,” Liam said. “She’s a nice girl and we’re friends and all, but it will be kind of freeing. It’s hard to meet people with a beard on your arm.”

            A spark of jealously coursed through Zayn when he thought of Liam meeting another man, but he quickly pushed it down-which he was good at doing, as Liam had pointed out-and gave a small chuckle.

            “Yeah, I get it, mate. Good luck to you.”

            “Thanks,” Liam said. “Anyway, do you have any other songs for me to listen to?”

            Zayn said no, even though he did have a couple more recorded, because he wasn’t ready to listen to them and realize that Liam was right; they were ‘generic,’ which was the kind word for ‘boring.’

            “We should sing a duet,” Liam suggested, causing Zayn to laugh so hard that he snorted.

            “I can’t see that going over well,” he said.

            “It doesn’t have to be a romantic one,” Liam said with a smile, “though that would be a killer way to come out of the closet, wouldn’t it?”

            “Better than having your sex videos leaked to the internet, I guess.”

            Liam was smiling, but reached out to squeeze Zayn’s shoulder comfortingly.

            “People are disgusted by him, Z; not you,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

            “Tell that to my family.”

            “I will. Give me their numbers.”

            “No,” Zayn said, laughing even though Liam seemed serious. “It’s okay.”

            “It’s not okay,” Liam said. “Aren’t you angry at them?”

            “No, not angry,” Zayn said. “I knew what was going to happen if they found out.”

            “I know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be mad.”

            “I don’t think ‘mad’ is the right emotion.”

            “What emotion is it, then?”

            “I don’t know, Liam,” Zayn said, shifting uncomfortably as he felt the familiar tightness in his throat. “Why are we talking about this?”

            “Because I’ve sat around and said nothing for too long when it’s obvious you’re going through something. I noticed the first night we met that you’re carrying a weight you won’t tell anyone about, and that’s okay if you can’t talk directly about what it is, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep it all inside.”

            Zayn was left speechless, wondering, not for the first time, if Liam could read his mind. That was ridiculous, of course, but it truly felt like it sometimes. Even though he’d never told a soul, it wouldn’t surprise Zayn all that much if Liam somehow knew his secret, and Zayn wanted to run, except there was nowhere he could escape in his own house. He could kick Liam out, he supposed, but that wouldn’t be fair when he was only trying to be a good friend.

            That was when it hit Zayn that Liam couldn’t possibly know his secret because he wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore if he did. Relaxing just as quickly as he’d started to panic, Zayn let out a shaky laugh.

            “You’re full of shit, Payne.”

            “No, Zayn,” Liam said, as if he were scolding a small child. “We’re not doing this. We’re not laughing it off. Let’s talk.”

            “There’s nothing to talk about, Li,” Zayn said.

            “Come on, Z.”

            It almost sounded as if Liam were begging, and he continued,

            “I don’t want to sound selfish or like I’m making this about me because you’re the one struggling with God knows what, but it’s not easy watching you let yourself suffer either. There were some nights that we spent together where the light came back to your eyes and you held your head higher and I always thought maybe that was the time we beat whatever you’re fighting, but we’d fall asleep and then when we’d wake up, it would be back again.”

            “That’s beautiful, Liam; quite poetic, in fact.”

            “This isn’t a joke, Zayn,” Liam groaned, growing impatient with his friend. “It’s not a joke and it’s not poetic. It’s fucking sad and I’m tired of _you_ being sad and angry and carrying the weight of the world around. Just let it go.”

            Convinced that he wasn’t going to be able to joke his way out of their deep conversation this time, Zayn nervously licked his lips. He didn’t want to run anymore or make Liam leave. He wanted to disappear to a world where they weren’t talking about this; where Liam wasn’t making him feel anything. But he couldn’t, so instead, he said,

            “It’s not that easy, Li.”

            “I know, and it’s going to be a process, but you’ve got to start somewhere. Write it out. Write something real.”

            Zayn shook his head, but already, his fingers were itching as the gears in his mind turned. That was how it used to feel when he wrote, but recently, the process had become a reflection of his life; just a routine he was participating in to get him through the day.

            After a moment, Zayn grabbed the notebook and pen that was sitting on a chair by the sound booth. Liam sat there in silence for the whole forty-five minutes it took Zayn to write. Lost in his head, Zayn had almost forgotten he was there, and he smiled when he looked up to see Liam gazing at him with a softer expression than he’d worn before.

            “Are you going to share?” the other asked after a moment in which neither had said anything. Zayn hesitated, and then gave a slight nod.

            “Just…don’t say anything though, okay?” he asked.

            “Sure,” Liam agreed. Taking a breath, Zayn went into the recording booth with his notebook. He didn’t worry much about the melody yet; just let the words flow from his mouth however they wished. Zayn wasn’t even paying attention to how he sounded, but only how he felt, which was a lot. He was sad, and he was hurt…angry and regretful, but hopeful. He had a long way to go, but maybe one day he could love the kid who had messed up and done things to shame himself. He hoped one day he could even forgive him and do as Liam suggested; learn a lesson from him.

            The feelings were likely fleeting, as they had been on the nights he’d laid next to Liam when he finally felt whole and worthy of something other than his guilt. Still, he embraced them for the time being, and when he had finished singing, Liam gave a quick clap.

            “I know I promised I wouldn’t say anything, but…just one thing?” he asked when an exhausted Zayn exited the booth and collapsed in the chair next to him again.

            “What is it?” he asked. With a smile, Liam said,

            “I think you found your next single.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will probably take a little longer to post, due to family coming in from out of town, but after that, I should be able to get on a proper posting schedule :)


	7. Insomnia

            _Zayn accompanied Liam_ _to the meeting with his own former producer, mainly because Liam asked him to, but also because he couldn’t wait to see that shocked expression followed by his wide, crinkly eyed smile when he was told how great he was. He hoped one day that Liam would believe it when someone complimented him on his voice and music, but Zayn would miss the way his whole face lit up like it did now._

_At the meeting, Liam was asked to perform other songs he had written, just to give the producer and the talent manager he had brought along a better feel for what exactly he would want to put out if signed. Though his voice started out shaky, it was strong again once he hit the chorus, and Zayn felt a pride he’d never felt for himself as he saw the smile and head nods of the producer and agent. His happiness was only dampened when Liam sang a ‘she’ pronoun, much to the obvious pleasure of everyone else._

_Once the meeting was through, Liam was told by the men that they had to do some thinking and planning, but that they would sure they would be in contact soon. After getting into Zayn’s car, Zayn noticed that Liam was shaking, and he reached across the seat to give his shoulder a light squeeze._

_“You did it!” he pointed out, and Liam gave a small smile, but shook his head._

_“No, I didn’t,” he disagreed. “They said they have some thinking to do. I’m sure that was their nice way of saying they don’t want me.”_

_“Not true,” Zayn told him. “Signing someone takes time but trust me; I saw their faces. They’re in love with you.”_

_Liam shook his head again, though his smile had grown a bit wider._

_“I guess we’ll see,” he said._

_“We certainly will,” Zayn replied, and they did._

_Only the next day, Liam was asked by the talent manager to get headshots, paid for by him. He invited Zayn to his photoshoot, and even though he would giggle nervously whenever the camera wasn’t on him, he was almost like a professional model when it was._

_“It’s all the practice shoots I did for myself when I was thinking of making a dating profile,” Liam told Zayn when the singer had complimented his skills._

_“I don’t think you’ll need that anymore,” Zayn said, and Liam rewarded him with his favorite smile._

_After receiving his portfolio only a few days later, Zayn and Liam delivered it personally to the talent agent, who signed Liam two days afterward. The day after that, Liam was asked to perform for the manager of a well-known label, who then asked to meet and discuss a possible contract._

_“I told you,” Zayn said after the two climbed into his car, and Liam let out a long sigh._

_“I’m going to pass out,” he announced, and Zayn gave a small laugh._

_“Things are moving rather quickly,” he noted, “but that’s what happens when you’re great and they’re all worried that someone else will snatch you up.”_

_“No,” Liam disagreed, though his cheeks had turned a slight shade of pink._

_“Yes,” Zayn said, and then, “let’s go celebrate. We’ll do anything you want to do.”_

_“Um…how about we don’t until it’s all a done deal, if that’s alright?” Liam asked. “I don’t want to jinx anything.”_

_“So you **do** want this,” Zayn confirmed aloud, and Liam smiled sheepishly._

_“Maybe I do,” he said. “Maybe I always did, and I just wouldn’t let myself think about it because I didn’t dream it could ever happen.”_

_“Take a deep breath, mate, because it’s happening.”_

_“Thanks to you,” Liam said, and before Zayn could tell him he only needed some encouragement, he added, “You’re the first one who believed in me, that also wanted the best for me, and whatever happens, I’ll always remember that and be grateful.”_

_“No one else must have ever heard you sing, then,” Zayn said._

_“My ex believed in me, he claimed, but he didn’t want me to go after a career like that, and my family always told me that I was talented but that someone like me would get swallowed up in the industry.”_

_“Someone like you? What does that mean?”_

_“Not sure. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.”_

_Liam laughed, but Zayn didn’t find anything funny about it. There was nothing wrong with Liam. Sure, Zayn hadn’t known him long, but he already felt like he knew him well._

_“I assume they meant because I’m gay and awkward,” Liam added when he received no reply from Zayn._

_“I think your personality is quite endearing,” Zayn said, causing Liam to smile again. He added, “and you’ve got what it takes. Being gay, I’m sure you’re more than aware that people can be awful for no reason. As long as you remember that and realize that for every hater you have a great number more fans, you’ll be okay.”_

_“I don’t have any fans yet,” Liam pointed out._

_“That’s incorrect. You’ve got me.”_

_“Okay,” Liam said. “I’ve got one fan.”_

_“One fan and no haters. See? You’re already ahead.”_

Sitting down on his couch with a bowl of cereal in hand, Zayn turned on his television and got as comfortable as he could. He didn’t know why he was so nervous when Liam was the one being interviewed, but he was. He’d already been informed that questions involving him joining the tour were fair game, but he trusted Liam to do the best he could with them, even if the journalists were less than friendly about it, as many had been online.

            It was said that Liam was being forced to allow Zayn on his tour. When Liam used his social media to inform everyone that he’d been the one to extend the invitation, they assumed it was either a lie or a pity invite. Liam told Zayn not to listen to them; that he’d invited him because he wanted him there. Besides, Liam said, the sales didn’t lie, and there had been a resurgence of tickets sold since the announcement that Zayn would be opening for Liam.

            Before Liam’s interview, Zayn had to suffer through some politician and a conceited actor he didn’t even care about. He’d finished his breakfast and nearly fallen asleep again when he jolted back to full consciousness after hearing Liam’s name come from the speakers. He looked so perfect, gently swaying his hips as he headed out from backstage in his well-fitted jeans and maroon button-up, that Zayn found himself sighing.

            The three interviewers greeted him with quick hugs, which the younger one seemed to enjoy a little too much, in Zayn’s opinion, and eventually the cheers settled enough for the interview to begin.

            As always, Liam answered the questions professionally and charismatically. He said it was mind blowing that his album was still topping the charts, a new single would be released soon, and he drew inspiration from a couple different relationships for his songs. Of course, he wouldn’t say which songs were written for whom.

            After the album came questions about the tour. First were the generic ones, such as which cities he was most excited for, if his tour had a theme, and what a typical day in the life of a pop star on tour was like. Then came the questions about Zayn. He had almost thought he was safe when the younger interviewer-who, by the way, was still looking at Liam as if she wanted to have her way with him in the nearest dressing room-said,

            “So what was with the last-minute announcement of your special guest?”

            Liam smiled in a way that hinted he knew this question was coming, and he answered,

            “It wasn’t _that_ last minute. These things take a while to get together and we didn’t want to announce anything until it was official, but I’ve wanted Zayn to join me for a while now, and I’m really happy that he was able and willing to sign on. His music goes so well with mine and he’s got a great energy while up onstage.”

            “But you’re dating his ex-girlfriend,” the first middle-aged interviewer said, and before Liam could reply, the third lady, who looked like the oldest, said,

            “Now, wait a minute. Zayn clearly doesn’t like women. Was Gianna aware of this while the two were together?”

            Zayn held his breath, but, like he knew he would, Liam took care of him the best he could.

            “It’s not my place to talk about Zayn’s sexuality and relationships, nor are they anyone’s business. Zayn is on this tour because he’s a great artist and performer, and that’s all I have to say about that.”

            Though the women tried desperately to get more information out of Liam about Zayn, he wouldn’t budge. He was polite, never losing his smile and apologizing for staying mum, but after a good minute or more of being prodded, Liam said if they’d wanted to know so much about Zayn then they should have interviewed him, and it was at that point that it seemed they were told by someone else to move on.

            As soon as Liam’s portion of the show was completed, Zayn went to get a shower. He was happy with the way Liam handled the personal questions about himself, but Zayn took that part of the interview as confirmation that nobody cared about his work anymore; only his sex life.

            When he exited the shower, he saw that he had two missed calls from Liam. Worried, he quickly called him back, water still dripping from his hair and body.

            “Hey, Z,” Liam answered, sounding calm.

            “Hey,” Zayn said. “Did you need something?”

            “No, no. Not really,” Liam admitted. “Just wanted to talk. Did you see the interview?”

            “You called twice in a row just because you wanted to talk?” Zayn asked rhetorically and before Liam answered, said, “Yeah, I watched the interview.”

            “I thought you would,” Liam told him. “I got a bit worried that it upset you and that’s why I called twice.”

            “Nah, I was just in the shower,” Zayn said, which was a partial truth. “You did amazing.”

            “Thanks. You were okay with how I answered the questions about you, then?”

            “You didn’t really answer them,” Zayn said with a small laugh. “And that was perfect, so thank you.”

            “Of course. It was kind of hard for me to keep my cool about it, honestly. They just wouldn’t let up and I just don’t see why it fucking matters if you like men or women or both. I don’t see why it matters who you’ve dated or pretended to date or anything else.”

            “Come on, Li. You know that’s how the industry is, and you know that’s why people are buying tickets again since you’ve announced I’m joining the tour. It’s not for my music. I’m like a freakshow attraction now or something.”

            “Not quite,” Liam said, and Zayn thought he was probably frowning by the tone of his voice. He said, “I wish you would have come to New York with me.”

            “Our teams are okay with us being friendly to each other,” Zayn said, “but I think it would be too much if I flew across the country to be with you for an interview.”

            “I know,” Liam sighed. “It’s just that I’m hungry and if you were here, we could have gone to our favorite pizza place before getting dessert at our favorite ice cream place.”

            “You can still do that,” Zayn pointed out.

            “I know,” Liam said, “but it’s not the same.”

            “Maybe when we’re in New York for the show,” Zayn suggested.

            “It’s a plan,” Liam decided. Zayn smiled, but found that he had nothing to say. Apparently, Liam didn’t either because after a few moments of silence, he said he was going to let Zayn go and that he needed a nap. Zayn said goodbye and that he would see him soon before hanging up. As he disconnected the call, he found himself getting just a bit emotional, though he had no idea why. Of course, that wasn’t uncommon for him these days, and he went on a run to fight off the nonsense, despite having just showered.

            Less than two weeks later, it was time for the tour to start. The night before they were set to leave, Zayn received a text from an unknown number. He grew nervous at first, thinking it was a fan or a hater that had somehow found his phone number, but his heart skipped about three beats when he read what the message said.

            _Hey, Z. It’s Doniya. I’m using my friend’s phone while he’s in the shower, so please don’t reply. Just wanted to say I miss you and good luck on tour. I’m sorry you’ve had such a hard time, but I’m glad things are looking up. I’ll try to text again or call soon. I still love you, baby brother; we all do._

Despite her asking him not to reply, Zayn found it almost impossible to follow her wishes. He had so much to say to her. Who was this friend who was apparently a guy? Why did it matter if she used his phone to get a hold of her brother? Was their dad tracking her own phone? How was she? How were his other sisters? His mom? He missed them and loved them too, so much that sometimes he couldn’t sleep at night.

            But Zayn didn’t reply, for a couple of reasons. The first was that she’d asked him not to, and however strange or confusing that request was, Zayn guessed it was for the best or she wouldn’t have mentioned it. Secondly, he feared that if he replied, she would realize that he wasn’t completely okay yet. He managed to get by, but all it took was one little thing to send him into an hour-long cry, a scalding hot shower, an episode of working out until he nearly fainted, or hitting his punching bag until his knuckles bled.

            That night, Zayn chose the crying session, resulting in swollen and red eyes that persisted through to the next morning.

            Over the years, Liam had grown to know Zayn very well, which meant he was aware without being told that Zayn had still not finished packing the next morning. Being proactive, Liam arrived at Zayn’s house early, a bag of doughnuts and two coffees in hand. Though he’d been smiling like he was on top of the world when Zayn opened the door to let him in, that grin quickly changed to a frown.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked, and Zayn forced a smile while shaking his head.

            “Nothing,” he said. “Just tired.”

            He didn’t want to tell the other about the text from his sister. Any mention of Zayn’s family seemed to make Liam as angry as it made Zayn sad, and he was too tired to talk about it anyway.

            “Well, I brought coffee,” Liam said, speaking as if he didn’t believe Zayn’s excuse but was respecting his decision to not talk about whatever was truly bothering him.

            “Perfect. Thank you.”

            Liam stepped in and Zayn took his coffee while closing the door behind his friend. Liam asked,

            “Have you started packing yet?”

            “‘Course I’ve started.”

            “Have you finished?”

            “‘Course not.”

            Liam laughed, and Zayn felt the need to defend himself.

            “I still needed my shampoo and toothbrush and such this morning.”

            “But everything else is packed?”

            “Eh…mostly.”

            Liam laughed again, shaking his head in amusement. He said,

            “You eat some breakfast and I’ll finish packing what I can for you.”

            “You don’t have to, Liam.”

            “I know I don’t have to, but I want to. I like picking the outfits you look hot as fuck in.”

            “I don’t look hot as fuck in everything I choose to wear?”

            Liam smiled, genuinely pleased that, even though he looked awful, Zayn was not so sad as to have lost his sense of humor yet.

            “You do,” he said, “but sometimes more than others.”

            “I see.”

            Zayn grabbed a doughnut to go with his coffee and sat on his bed as he watched Liam do his packing. He would have felt bad except he knew that Liam, for some reason, genuinely enjoyed doing it. Over the years, Zayn’s mind hadn’t changed, and Liam was still damn near perfect, but there were parts of him that were a bit strange.

            “Ooh, yes, definitely this one,” Liam said quietly as if he were speaking to himself while he neatly folded up one of Zayn’s shirts and placed it carefully into his suitcase. Zayn made a mental note to wear that one more often than the others.

            “I’m sorry about your recent break up, by the way,” Zayn told Liam, who sniffed in amusement.

            “Thanks,” he said. “It’s been a hard week, but I’m getting by.”

            “I understand,” Zayn assured him. “You and Gianna were just so perfect together. I’m absolutely shocked.”

            Liam laughed and threw a balled-up pair of socks at Zayn, who caught them before they hit him. Zayn smiled, then said,

            “On a serious note, how does it feel to be beard-less again?”

            “I’m not sure yet, to be honest,” Liam said. “Now that the public knows I’m single, I feel like their focus isn’t going to be on my music as much anymore.”

            “It’s possible,” Zayn admitted. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have another beard soon!”

            Liam smiled, though seemed distracted. When he didn’t reply, Zayn asked,

            “What are you thinking about?”

            Liam opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets from Zayn, at least not so obviously, and Zayn’s eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

            “Li?” he prodded.

            Looking towards him, Liam hesitated, then smiled and said,

            “Just thinking about how nice your bum looks in these trousers.”

            “So full of shit,” Zayn said, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t force Liam to tell him what was truly on his mind, though, especially when Liam had let Zayn keep what was bothering him private.

            _This is why you two could have never worked out,_ something in Zayn’s head that seemed out of his control said to him, and he frowned.

            “I’ll be right back,” he said, and went to wash his hands.

 

            Since the fans in England tended to get upset if the tour started somewhere else, since they rightfully credited themselves with launching the mens’ careers, the first show of the tour was in London. Zayn made sure to bring along his anxiety medicine-which he had plenty of, since he hadn’t been taking it on a regular basis anyway-so that he could sleep the whole way there, but he was surprised to find out that Liam had a private jet prepared to take them across the sea.

            “Remember when you called _me_ a snob?” Zayn asked as he climbed aboard and looked around at the lavishly decorated aircraft.

            “I’m only renting it,” Liam said, as if that was a good excuse.

            “Because flying first class isn’t high-class enough for you?” Zayn teased but, unamused, Liam stared down the bridge of his nose at him.

            “No,” he said. “It’s because I thought you may like not being stuck on a plane when there was a high potential for eyes to be glued to you the entire time with people possibly asking you questions you don’t want to answer.”

            To that, Zayn had nothing to say. He felt a lump in his throat as he looked around the stupidly expensive jet, and then Liam came over and gently poked him in the side. When he spoke, his tone was lighter.

            “And besides, now we can talk and laugh obnoxiously at nothing and cuddle without people being rude or judge-y about it.”

            “Cuddling is in the agenda, huh?” Zayn asked, and Liam shrugged.

            “Friends cuddle sometimes,” he said.

            “Sure, Li,” Zayn replied.

            Liam poured himself and Zayn a glass of sparkling champagne-and was again unamused when Zayn asked if he had the real thing instead-and then they settled in for their more than ten hour flight. Zayn was going to say that he was down for the cuddling thing but sipped his drink and pretended it was alcoholic instead.

            _You had your chance with him. You ruined it_ , that nasty little voice remarked, but it didn’t bother Zayn much this time because it was true, and it had been for the best. Liam would be better off with someone-anyone-else.

            “I’ve got to pee,” he announced, handing his glass over to Liam.

            “Already?” Liam asked. “You alright?”

            “I’m fine,” Zayn said. “Just didn’t go before we left, and I did drink that whole coffee.”

            Liam nodded and Zayn hurried to the bathroom where he stood for a few moments before flushing the toilet and washing his hands twice. When he went back to sit next to Liam and take his drink, Liam used his thumb to stroke a couple of Zayn’s knuckles gently.

            “They’re getting red again,” he announced, and Zayn bit the inside of his cheek guiltily. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way when washing his hands was a harmless habit that didn’t affect Liam in the slightest, but Liam put his champagne glass down and then went to his bag. Out of it, he pulled a bottle of lotion and then rejoined Zayn on the couch.

            “Remind me to get you some of the good stuff when we touch down,” Liam said.

            “I can get my own lotion, Liam,” Zayn told him, but Liam ignored the remark and gestured Zayn forward. After setting down his drink, Zayn scooted closer. Liam squirt a fair amount of lotion into his own hands, then gently started massaging it into Zayn’s.

            So far, Liam had been the only one to know of Zayn’s habit. When he’d discovered it, Zayn’s skin had been so raw that Liam thought the crack on his dry wrist was a self-injury mark. Zayn had laughed, not because self-harm was funny in the slightest, but because it was ridiculous for anyone to think doing that would ever cross his mind. After explaining to Liam that his skin was just dry because he had sensitive skin and could feel the dirt and germs as they piled up on his body, Liam had told him that he was sure it was all in his head. To lessen the blow of his words in which he had basically called Zayn crazy, he had proceeded to do just what he was doing now; massage lotion into Zayn’s hands, wrists, and arms. He had then kissed his dry knuckles, all the way up to his lips, just like Zayn had imagined him doing many times. To his surprise, he didn’t feel filthy like he had during his daydreams.

            “There,” Liam said after he was satisfied with the amount of moisturization Zayn had been given. “I’ll get some better stuff tonight and you can sleep with socks on your hands. They should feel better by tomorrow.”

            “They feel fine,” Zayn claimed. Rather, he had gotten used to the dull ache and the only time it truly bothered him was when he would wash them and it felt like small bees were stinging him all over his hands.

            Instead of replying, Liam set the lotion bottle down and picked up his drink glass again. Zayn picked up his as well, and then Liam changed positions so that he could lay his head on Zayn’s shoulder.

            Zayn really wished the champagne were real.

 

            By the time they reached London, it was one in the morning their time. As promised, Liam went to a 24-hour convenience store to get Zayn some top-brand lotion, and he made sure he put it on him in Zayn’s hotel room before going to his own. Zayn didn’t mention that he still had to shower so he was just going to wash it right back off, and he assured Liam he would sleep with socks on his hands.

            Probably because they’d been on a private jet and had done virtually nothing besides watch movies or play a couple board games, Zayn didn’t feel too dirty. His shower was of a normal temperature and he found that a quick body wash sufficed. Still, he put the lotion back on once he’d dried off and followed his promise to Liam by sleeping with socks on his hands. By the next morning, the small cuts on his hands, arms, and wrists were almost healed.

            Liam picked Zayn up at his hotel room for breakfast that day and after eating, they grabbed their bags and headed to the show. They would be performing at the same arena in London for two nights in a row, so they would be able to sleep in their hotel rooms again later instead of a bus or plane.

            Backstage, Zayn met Liam’s first opener, Kiki, for the first time. Zayn was nervous to meet her, thinking she was going to look at him like he expected everyone else to-as if he were a freakshow attraction-and to hound him with questions regarding his sexuality, but she didn’t. She smiled kindly while Liam was introducing the two, shook his hand, and that was that. Of course, it was possible that she was simply too nervous to care about Zayn at that point in time, and her anxiety was giving rise to Zayn’s. Only Liam seemed relaxed, as even the backstage employees were rushing around like headless chickens.

            It had been a while since Zayn had gotten so nervous that he was sick before a show. In fact, it had only happened once, before his first-ever concert, and so he tried to tell himself he must have had mild food poisoning when it happened that night, but he knew it wasn’t true. He couldn’t blame himself, though, because, just like his first show, he had no idea how the crowd was going to react to him. It was like he was a different Zayn now, and he wasn’t sure how or if this one would be accepted.

            The day seemed to drag on, but it was still too soon when it was time for Zayn to go onstage. Kiki had killed her performance in the best way, and Zayn wasn’t sure how he felt going up after her. It had been so long since he’d sung live that he felt as if he probably had forgotten how to do it.

            Five minutes before going on, Liam ran out of the dressing room he’d been in to give him a tight hug and a reassuring smile that sometimes succeeded in making Zayn feel better, but it didn’t this time.

            “You’re going to do great, but good luck anyway,” he said. “I’m so glad you decided to come on tour with me.”

            As the countdown screen changed to less than five minutes, the crowd roared, and Liam smiled proudly. Zayn’s heart was beating so erratically that he felt dizzy.

            “Hear how excited they are for you?” he asked rhetorically. “You’ve got this, mate.”

            “Why did you do this to me?” Zayn asked. “You know I can’t say no to you.”

            Liam laughed, rubbing both of Zayn’s shoulders comfortably, but said,

            “Actually, you seem very capable of saying no to me.”

            Zayn tried to look down, feeling guilt and even regret for that night nearly ten months ago, but Liam gently lifted his chin back up and gave his friend a soft forehead kiss, as if they were alone. When Zayn tried to look around to see if anyone had seen them, Liam again stopped him.

            “You’ve got this,” he said again, and he sounded so sure that Zayn’s confidence finally grew by a smidgeon.

            When the timer facing the audience reached zero, the lights dimmed and the crowd screamed as Zayn was given the go ahead. For a moment, he almost asked what he was supposed to do, but then he remembered that they had rehearsed this for six weeks and he knew what to do. He’d done this before.

            Almost as if he had robot legs that moved without his consent or control, Zayn found himself hurrying out from backstage, followed by his back-up musicians and dancers; a nice crew of scantily clad men and women.

            “Hello London!” Zayn called out, shocked by how loud his voiced sounded when it had taken a great deal of effort to say anything at all. The screams pierced his ears and he quickly inserted his earpieces, but he smiled. He thought that he had another bit of dialogue he was supposed to say, but he couldn’t remember what it was, so instead, he nodded to his musicians and started his first song.

            The crowd reacted positively to the first song as well as the second and third. Looking out into the audience, Zayn didn’t see any wildly inappropriate signs. There was one that said, ‘Fuck Frankie Robles,’ which he quite enjoyed.

            “I like that sign,” he told the fan, who almost looked as if she was about to faint. Zayn added, “though I don’t recommend actually fucking him. It’s not as enjoyable as I made it look.”

            The crowd went nuts; roaring with laughter, cheers, screams, claps, and whistles. Zayn smiled, almost feeling proud.

            When Zayn ran backstage for his first outfit change, Liam was waiting right behind the curtain and pulled him into another tight hug.

            “Liam,” Zayn protested, “I’m all sweaty.”

            “Yeah, because I’ve never touched you while we were all sweaty before,” Liam said into his ear, and Zayn shivered.

            “Rude,” he said, but laughed. “I have to get changed.”

            Smiling, Liam nodded and let Zayn go, but Zayn found that he couldn’t stop grinning, even after he’d gone back onstage.

            Zayn sang two of his new songs, and even though he still wasn’t sure if they were quite ready, the crowd reacted positively again. They even took out their cell phones and lighters during the slower one. Zayn had been most nervous about that one because it deviated quite a bit from his regular music, but the fans seemed to enjoy it, and Liam was smiling so widely from backstage that Zayn didn’t particularly care if anyone else liked it or not anyway.

            Soon, his part of the concert was over, and Zayn found that he didn’t want to leave the stage. He asked the crowd to ‘give it up’ for his musicians and dancers, took a bow with them, and then they all hurried backstage. Fueled by adrenaline, Zayn ran, hoping to be swept up in Liam’s arms again. Sure enough, he did feel arms around his waist, and he laughed as he was spun around elegantly, but the laugh got caught in his throat when he came face-to-face with the person who had grabbed him and realized that it was Martin, not Liam. The smile that his manager wore made Zayn want to cover his body, even though he was only in a tank top and jeans. He felt as if he needed a sweater, some joggers, mittens, socks, and combat boots.

            “You did great, Zayn,” Martin said, rubbing his client’s shoulders, and Zayn backed slowly out of the way.

            “Thanks,” he said. “What are you doing way out here?”

            “I had to come see my favorite client’s first show,” Martin said. “Besides, most of the work I have to do right now I can get done over the phone or on the internet, so I might stay for a little while.”

            Even though he knew it didn’t, Zayn felt as if his heart stopped beating. He wanted to tell Martin that wasn’t necessary, or even that he didn’t want him there, but he couldn’t, so instead, he gave the best smile he could muster and said,

            “Cool. I’m going to go find Liam and tell him good luck, but I’ll see you later, then.”

            “Yeah, see you Zaynie,” Martin agreed, gently stroking Zayn’s cheek before the older man turned and walked pompously away. Zayn shivered, and after making sure Martin was truly walking away and wouldn’t change his mind and come back to him, he turned on his heel and ran. Still feeling uneasy, he couldn’t help but to continuously check behind him to verify that Martin wasn’t following him, which resulted in him running smack into Liam.

            “Whoa,” Liam said aloud, wrapping his arms tightly around Zayn’s middle. “You alright, mate?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine,” Zayn replied, glad that his voice sounded normal despite the tears poking at his eyes.

            “You’re shaking, babe,” Liam pointed out.

            “Just coming down from the adrenaline,” Zayn said. Liam laughed and gave Zayn another quick, tight squeeze before setting him upright on his feet. He said,

            “You did excellent, Z. That was an amazing performance.”

            “Thank you,” Zayn said, having to take Liam’s word for it because he suddenly couldn’t remember much about the show. “Good luck to you, even though you don’t need it.”

            “Thanks,” Liam said with a smile. “First show nerves are always the worst.”

            “You don’t even seem nervous,” Zayn said.

            “Really?” Liam asked. “Maybe I should be an actor, then.”

            He smiled, and Zayn forced a shaky one back. Liam apparently wasn’t falling for it, though, because he gently touched Zayn’s arm and asked,

            “Are you sure you’re okay?”

            “Yeah,” Zayn said. “It’s just…a lot.”

            “I know,” Liam said, “but you did so well. I’m so proud of you, Z.”

            Zayn thanked Liam, but he didn’t think he heard over the stage manager calling his name. Sighing with a smile on his face, Liam rubbed Zayn’s shoulder one more time and said,

            “I’ve got to go. I’ll try to come say hi again before I go onstage, but if I don’t have time, I’ll see you soon.”

            “Alright,” Zayn said. “Have fun.”

            After giving Zayn another quick smile, Liam hurried off. With him went the security Zayn felt, and he looked around, paranoid, before making his way over to the couch, where Kiki was sitting and playing with her phone.

            “Mind if I sit here?” Zayn asked, gesturing at the spot next to her.

            “Of course not,” she allowed, and Zayn sat.

            “Sorry I’m still sweaty,” he said, and the woman laughed.

            “You still smell good,” she assured him. Zayn smiled, and the other singer returned it before looking back to her phone. That was alright, though. Zayn hadn’t sat there with the need to socialize. He simply didn’t want to be alone.

            Liam, of course, exceeded all expectations for his performance, even though they had been set fairly high. When he returned backstage after his encore, Martin popped a bottle of celebratory champagne, which Liam was quite angry about, on Zayn’s behalf, but he found that it wasn’t hard to say no, which was odd. He’d never said no to alcohol or Martin before.

            Zayn and Liam got a ride back to their hotel together, and even though they were the only two in the backseat, Liam sat in the middle to be closer to Zayn. It was amazing, Zayn thought, how nice Liam was still able to be to Zayn after he’d hurt him.

            Before parting ways for the night, Liam gave Zayn a hug, neither caring that their shirts and skin were covered with dried up sweat. Zayn should have been itching for a shower, but the thought of getting naked was giving him anxiety. After deadbolting his hotel door, he told himself he was being ridiculous and that he needed to wash the filth off himself. He took his night clothes into the bathroom with him, where he locked the door. Though he was able to resist the urge to take the desk chair with him and attempt to position it underneath the lock for extra security, Zayn spent most of the time trying to cover himself even though he knew he was being stupid and that he was alone.

            Zayn wanted to text Liam after leaving the shower and ask if he was still awake; wanted to see if he was up for a sleepover in one of their rooms. They didn’t have to do anything besides lay in bed together. He even thought Liam would probably say yes, but Zayn knew he’d had his chance to share a bed with Liam-possibly forever-and that he’d given it up months ago. Besides, it wasn’t Liam’s job to keep Zayn safe or sane. Zayn needed to learn how to do it for himself, as relying on other people had only turned around to screw him.

            Tonight was not going to be the night Zayn learned how to do that, though,  and so he stayed awake watching the digital clock change numbers every sixty seconds because closing his eyes only brought memories and Zayn wasn’t sure which was worse; the ones he wish he didn’t have or the ones he wished he’d never given away to live only in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait again, but I should be able to post at least one chapter a week from now on so we can get on to the true Ziam action! ;)


	8. Last First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I made a liar out of myself and am posting this way late. I will try to do better! This is another flashback chapter.

            _“You have to leave soon, don’t you?”_

_Liam, who had been laughing with Zayn only moments ago, suddenly sounded sad. Zayn raised an eyebrow, confused by the change of mood, and said,_

_“No. I don’t really have a curfew…”_

_Liam laughed, softly shoving Zayn’s shoulder as if he’d been making a joke._

_“I didn’t mean like that,” he said. “I meant, you told me you were leaving to go back to California in two weeks, and that was three weeks ago.”_

_It was true, though Zayn had hoped Liam wouldn’t remember. He didn’t need the other to know he’d stayed just because he so enjoyed spending time with him._

_“Yeah, I decided to stay for a little longer,” Zayn said, and then, “I do have to go leave next week to film something, but I’ll probably come back afterward.”_

_So Liam wouldn’t question why he would be coming back right away, Zayn added,_

_“I miss my family being so far away all the time, you know?”_

_“Yeah, I can only imagine,” Liam said, thankfully not mentioning that Zayn had been spending more time with him than his family. “What are you filming?”_

_“I can’t tell you yet,” Zayn said, and Liam sighed dramatically._

_“Fine, then,” he said. “I didn’t really want to know anyway.”_

_Zayn laughed and took the television remote from Liam’s lap, hitting ‘play’ to un-pause the show Liam had stopped when he’d begun talking._

_Every day until the day he left, Zayn spent with Liam. There was the obligatory goodbye dinner that Zayn had to attend with his family, followed by a night of playing board games together, but Zayn made sure to meet Liam for a quick lunch at the mall on his break. He’d wanted to invite Liam to join his family that evening, but he feared his family would sense that Zayn had thoughts of him that one didn’t typically have about friends, and so he didn’t._

_“Will you let me know when you’ve made it to California safely?” Liam asked Zayn before the two parted ways._

_“It will be about four in the morning here,” Zayn told him. “Just text me when you wake up and I’ll let you know if I’m still alive.”_

_“No, **you** text **me** when you get there,” Liam insisted. “I don’t care if it wakes me up.”_

_“Alright,” Zayn agreed. “Whatever you insist.”_

_Liam smiled, awkwardly shoving his hands in his back pocket before shrugging._

_“Alright, then,” he said. “Um…thanks again for everything and maybe I’ll see you around.”_

_“Of course you will,” Zayn said with a slight laugh that kept his statement from sounding too eager. “We work in the same industry now.”_

_“We might,” Liam corrected. “I’m not quitting this job until I see how my first single does. For all I know it will flop and they’ll drop me.”_

_“They can’t do that. You signed your contract for one full-length album. Besides, your single will do great. When are you recording it again?”_

_“Saturday,” Liam answered, which Zayn had already known, but Liam didn’t need to be aware of the fact that he had his whole schedule memorized._

_“That’s right,” Zayn said. “Sorry I’ll miss that. We’ll still go celebrate as soon as I get back.”_

_“Let’s not celebrate until we see if it’s even successful,” Liam said._

_“First you wanted to be officially signed before celebrating, then you wanted to record a single, and now you want to make sure the single meets your probably too high expectations,” Zayn commented. “You can be proud of yourself throughout the process, Li. You don’t have to wait until the final goal.”_

_Liam smiled, but instead of replying, he checked his watch._

_“Shit, I’m late,” he said. “I have to go back before they fire me.”_

_“Doesn’t really matter if they do,” Zayn pointed out, and Liam just shook his head._

_“Remember to text me when you get there,” he said._

_“I will,” Zayn promised. “See you soon.”_

_Throughout the evening, Zayn found himself wishing he’d grown a pair and invited Liam along for dinner and games. What if Liam decided he didn’t care to see Zayn again once he returned? What if he met someone else while he was gone?_

_Zayn supposed that would be the best case scenario, at least for Liam. It wasn’t like Zayn could be the man he wanted or needed. Even if they came up with a plan to stay closeted to the public, Liam was used to being out in private. He’d probably taken his boyfriend along to family birthdays, holidays, and get-togethers. They’d probably held hands and kissed without a care in the world as to who was watching. Zayn could never do that. He would have been proud to show off Liam and to call him his, if only it didn’t mean that he was gay._

_Still, being a child star had made Zayn slightly selfish. He’d grown up always getting what he wanted and going without was not something he was particularly good at._

_After excusing himself to go to the bathroom, Zayn sent Liam a text._

_**I want to see you one last time before I go,** he said. **Pick you up around midnight?**_

**** _Any other person probably would have told Zayn that he was insane; they weren’t waiting up until midnight for a coward that couldn’t even invite him over for game night, but this was Liam, so all he said was,_

_**Ok, see you soon =]**_

**** _Zayn had to wait until his family went to sleep to leave. Luckily, they went to bed early since they were the ones taking Zayn to the airport in the morning, so he got to sneak out early._

_‘Sneaking out’ was something he’d never before had to do. With his great responsibilities at such a young age, he was given pretty much all the independence he wanted as well, and his parents rarely told him that he couldn’t go somewhere, especially after he’d gotten his license and could drive himself. However, they were still his parents, and they wanted to know where he was going. That was why he had to sneak out. He couldn’t come up with a good excuse as to why he needed to see this guy for the second time in one day, especially so late at night and when he had to be up and getting ready to go to the airport in less than eight hours._

_Since Zayn didn’t live far from Liam and he’d texted him upon leaving his parents’ house, Liam was outside waiting when Zayn pulled up. He was smoking a cigarette but put it out when he spotted Zayn, and hurried to get in the car._

_“Holy moly, it’s cold,” Liam gasped, rubbing his hands together fiercely to warm them._

_“‘Holy moly,’” Zayn repeated under his breath while smiling at Liam’s explicative. Louder, he said, “Have you heard of this wonderful invention called gloves?”_

_“Can’t say I have,” Liam said. “What are they?”_

_“They’re these pieces of cloth with spaces for your fingers sewn in that are designed to keep your hands warm in the cold temperatures.”_

_“Whoa,” Liam said, sounding amazed. “I’m going to have to get me some of those.”_

_“I recommend it, Zayn said, opening his glovebox and pulling out a spare pair of gloves, which he handed to Liam._

_“Thank you,” Liam said, putting them on and then sighing. Afterward, he gave Zayn a smile and asked,_

_“So what are we doing?”_

_“I thought we could drive around and look at the Christmas lights that the early birds have already put up.”_

_“Sounds fun,” Liam said, “but I actually haven’t seen too many yet.”_

_“Then I guess while we drive, we can come up with a plan B.”_

_“Alright,” Liam said, but then, “Oh! Mrs. Davidson always has her sons put up her Christmas decorations on the second week of November. They’re super extra, but she’s a nice lady…She has a new display every year, so why don’t we start there?”_

_“Good idea,” Zayn agreed, putting his car into drive. “Which way to Mrs. Davidson’s?”_

_Liam directed Zayn, and though they didn’t pass any other houses that were decorated yet, Mrs. Davidson’s flat made up for the lack of early holiday cheer. As they pulled up, Zayn couldn’t help but to laugh._

_“Told you,” Liam said, a small giggle coming from himself. He felt the need to say again, “She is a really nice lady, though.”_

_“I’m sure she is,” Zayn said. “Just seems as if she might have a slight Santa Claus kink.”_

_Liam laughed, but he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t know where Zayn was getting the idea. There was garland all across Mrs. Davidson’s front fence, and a large, waving Santa Claus at the entrance. There were multiple candy cane ornaments scattered throughout the lawn, and another Santa Claus on the roof of her house as well as a Santa silhouette on her garage door. Suspiciously, Mrs. Claus was nowhere to be seen._

_“The lights are pretty, though,” Zayn commented, admiring the red, green, and white lights that adorned the frame of her home and the two trees on the sides of her yard._

_“They are,” Liam agreed. After a moment of silence, Zayn asked,_

_“Where to next?”_

_“I’m not sure,” Liam said. “The gazebo at the park is decorated, but other than that, I can’t think of where I’ve seen any lights.”_

_“Well, this plan was a fail,” Zayn said._

_“Not a fail, “Liam disagreed, “but did you really pick me up so late at night to look at Christmas lights when it’s not even December?”_

_Zayn hadn’t, of course. He’d picked Liam up so that he could tell him in person how much he’d enjoyed spending these last few weeks with him. He wanted to tell him that, even though they could never be more than friends, Zayn was glad they met. What Zayn really wanted to do was kiss Liam._

_But looking at him, with his wide brown eyes and full red lips, Zayn wasn’t sure if just kissing him would ever be enough. Either way he saw it, one of them was probably getting hurt, and Zayn would rather it be him than Liam, so he said,_

_“Yeah. That’s really it.”_

_“Okay,” Liam said with a slight laugh. “Well, as much fun as this is-and I’m not being sarcastic-how about we get out of here before someone thinks we’re creeping on Mrs. Davidson? There’s a coffee and donut shop around here that’s open until two AM. Why don’t we go get some hot chocolate or something and then we can go check out the gazebo at the park?”_

_“Okay,” Zayn agreed, and Liam directed him again, this time to the donut shop._

_The young man working the counter recognized Zayn and requested a picture. Zayn complied on the terms that he didn’t post it until the next day, when he would be on a plane out of the country. That way, if his parents or sisters saw it, he wouldn’t have to lie to their faces when he said he’d made a donut run simply because he couldn’t sleep._

_“One day, that will be me taking pictures of you with your fans,” Zayn told Liam as they headed back to Zayn’s car with their hot chocolate and donuts. Liam smiled and shook his head, and Zayn only grinned because he knew it would be true._

_It hadn’t been that long since Zayn picked Liam up, but the night had seemed to grow substantially colder. Zayn hadn’t dressed to be outside and the only pair of gloves he had with him were on Liam’s hands, but the cold was worth it. The gazebo was decorated with white lights, garland, and mistletoe. Zayn noticed that they had to go underneath the mistletoe to sit, but he seemed to completely lose his voice when he tried to make a snarky remark about it._

_“The gazebo looks really pretty when it snows,” Liam commented._

_“I haven’t seen snow in a long time,” Zayn said. “It’s usually summer whenever I’m somewhere that would have snow.”_

_“That’s sad,” Liam said._

_“Not really,” Zayn replied with a small laugh. “Snow is wet and cold and causes numerous car accidents, and people slip and fall and get concussions…”_

_“It’s usually the ice that causes the accidents and falls,” Liam rationalized._

_“They’re one in the same to me,” Zayn said, and Liam laughed._

_“They aren’t the same at all, but okay.”_

_“Well, I hate them both, so close enough.”_

_Up until that point, the hot chocolate had been keeping Zayn warm enough, but a cold chill went through his body and he shivered violently. Liam raised an eyebrow._

_“California has spoiled you,” he said._

_“Maybe so,” Zayn admitted, wondering why he’d decided to come back after filming when soon, it would start snowing and the temperature would turn hypothermic. He didn’t have to wonder long, though, since the answer was sitting right next to him._

_Wordlessly, Liam took Zayn’s gloves off and tried to hand them back, but Zayn shook his head._

_“I’m okay,” he insisted, causing Liam’s eyebrow to rise further into his hairline._

_“I’m more accustomed to this weather than you,” Liam said. “Please take your gloves back before your fingers fall off.”_

_“Nah,” Zayn said. With a sigh, Liam set his hot chocolate on the bench next to him and put one glove back on. The other, he attempted to hand to Zayn, but all the singer did was look at his friend as if he had lost his mind._

_“If I’m going to lose five fingers, I might as well lose ten,” he said. Liam rolled his eyes._

_“You’re not losing any,” he said, and took it upon himself to put the glove on one of Zayn’s hands himself. Afterwards, Liam took Zayn’s bare hand in his own and held it tightly._

_“Body heat,” he explained._

_“I see,” Zayn said, although he knew the body heat they were giving each other wouldn’t be enough to protect their skin against the cold for long. His face, however, was probably warm enough to resist frost bite for quite some time._

_While they held hands and continued sipping on their hot chocolate, Zayn questioned Liam over his plans for the next few days. Liam said he didn’t have any besides work and recording his new single, but that he likely wouldn’t have the energy to do anything else since his anxiety was taking a lot out of him. Of course, Zayn told him that he had nothing to worry about, but he knew that Liam wouldn’t believe him. Next, Liam asked Zayn what he was looking forward to the most in California. Besides the warmth, Zayn told him that he was going to have to make a stop at his favorite restaurant, that he promised to take Liam to whenever he made his way to the area. Somehow from there, they began a conversation about their families. Liam said that he had two sisters and that he used to beg his mom and dad to try and give him a little brother, but that there are some perks to being the baby of the family. Zayn commented on how he used to want a brother as well, but that he never would have seen him anyway, and that Louis and Niall were kind of like his brothers. Liam said that it was sad Zayn had rarely seen his siblings growing up, and Zayn noticed that Liam referred to his childhood as ‘sad’ quite often when it was discussed, which he found peculiar. All he was ever told is that he should be grateful for his opportunities, his money, and his fame. Zayn was grateful, but it was refreshing to hear someone express sympathy in the areas he used to feel he wasn’t allowed to express his sorrow over._

_It was only when, despite holding hands, the mens’ fingers started to go numb, that they checked the time. Zayn was shocked to find that it was nearly two in the morning._

_“I have to be up in about four hours,” he commented, dreading the morning but knowing that night had been worth it._

_“I guess you should go, then,” Liam said. He then tried to tell Zayn that he didn’t have to take him home; that he could walk or find a ride because it really wasn’t that far from the park and he didn’t want to keep Zayn awake any longer than necessary. Zayn told him he was ridiculous and drove him home anyway. Sitting in the driveway, Zayn almost got up the nerve to kiss him. Liam was lingering around, moving slowly with one hand on the door handle, almost like he wanted to kiss Zayn too, but then he got out of the car and neither of them made any move._

_Still, Zayn couldn’t help but to smile on the way home when he realized that Liam had taken his one glove, and he sighed when he remembered what it had felt like to hold his hand._

_Saturday morning, which would have been Saturday evening in London time, Zayn received an incoming call from Liam, but by the time he answered, the other had hung up._

_**Change your mind about talking to me?** Zayn asked via text, because the phone couldn’t have been ringing for more than five seconds before he’d gotten to it. A moment later, his ringtone went off again, and Zayn saw Liam’s name shining up at him._

_“Hello?” he answered._

_“Hey,” Liam said. “Sorry, I thought you might be busy.”_

_“Not right now,” Zayn said. “What’s up?”_

_“My first single has been recorded,” Liam told him._

_“Yeah? How’d it go?”_

_“It still needs to be mixed and everything, but…I think I like it.”_

_“You don’t have to hesitate before admitting you like your music,” Zayn said. “You **should** like your music. Hating your own songs is awful, especially if it’s a single you’re going to have to sing over and over.”_

_“Yeah,” Liam said noncommittally. Then, as he tended to do, he changed the subject. “How’s filming going?”_

_“Alright, I guess. I have a bit more to film on Monday and if everything goes as planned, I should be done after that.”_

_“Cool.”_

_Liam cleared his throat and then hesitantly asked,_

_“So…when do you think you’re coming back?”_

_“Probably before next weekend,” Zayn replied. “Louis is having an early birthday party since his birthday is Christmas Eve and a bunch of his friends are going to be out of town soon.”_

_“Oh, cool,” Liam said. Zayn asked,_

_“Do you want to come to his party?”_

_“Really?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Louis wouldn’t care?”_

_“Not at all. Louis really likes you.”_

_For some reason, Zayn felt the need to add,_

_“I mean, not like that…”_

_He regretted those words, and then said,_

_“Well, maybe like that, I don’t know.”_

_Louis **had** commented on how attractive Liam was before Zayn had, and being the good friend he was, it was possible he’d backed off when he realized Zayn liked him too. Louis would be better for Liam, though, Zayn thought. He was out, proud, and ready for a man, so Zayn said,_

_“I can ask him, if you want me to.”_

_“That’s okay,” Liam said with a slight laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, Louis is really nice and super cute, but I think I kind of like someone else.”_

_“Oh, really?” Zayn asked, hoping he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. He must not have because Liam laughed again._

_“Yeah…maybe.”_

_“Want to tell me about him?”_

_Zayn didn’t know why he was doing this to himself. He absolutely did not want to know about this man that Liam liked, but luckily, all Liam said was,_

_“Maybe some other time. What kind of party is Louis having? I mean, what should I wear?”_

_“Whatever you want,” Zayn said. “It’s just going to be at his place in London before he sells it and moves back closer to home. It won’t be anything fancy. In fact, Louis’s parties tend to get quite…crazy.”_

_“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Liam assured Zayn._

_Zayn finished all the scenes for the sitcom he was set to appear in that Monday. So that he wouldn’t seem too eager, he waited until Thursday to fly out. He even managed to eat some lunch and take a nap before making plans with Liam to see a movie the first night back. Liam insisted on driving that time, worrying that Zayn was too jet lagged to do so, and Zayn thought it was interesting how much calmer he felt while in the presence of the other man._

_“Sorry about my shitty car,” Liam apologized as Zayn climbed into the ten-year-old Honda._

_“It’s not shitty if it gets you where you need to go,” Zayn said._

_“It does…most of the time.”_

_“Want to drive mine?”_

_“Seriously?!”_

_Liam looked like he might explode with excitement, so even if Zayn had been joking, he would have had to let Liam drive it anyway._

_“Sure,” Zayn said, unbuckling the seatbelt he’d just strapped himself in._

_“I don’t know,” Liam said. “What if I wreck it?!”_

_“I’ve got insurance.”_

_Realizing that Zayn was serious, Liam looked equal parts excited and terrified. Zayn laughed._

_“It’s going to be fine, mate. It’s just a car.”_

_Liam backed out of the driveway, parking in the street so they could get Zayn’s car out of the drive. Zayn was pretty sure he saw him shaking as he climbed behind the wheel of Zayn’s Volvo._

_“I don’t think I’ve touched anything this expensive before,” he stated._

_“It’s just a Volvo,” Zayn said. “I should show you Louis’s Jaguar.”_

_Liam looked like he was about to have an aneurism at the thought._

_Liam was having so much fun driving Zayn’s car around that the two never made it to the movies. Though he was at first going about seven miles under the speed limit and staying far away from other cars, once he hit the freeway, something in him changed and he suddenly became a future cast member of The Fast and the Furious. By some miracle, neither died nor were pulled over._

_Once dropping himself back off at home, there was that same awkwardness that Zayn felt when he took Liam home the morning he left for California. He didn’t understand it because the rest of the day had felt perfectly fine, but he found himself not wanting Liam to leave, at least not without receiving a kiss first._

_Then Zayn remembered that Liam was interested in someone else and his mood shifted from awkward to sad._

_Two days later was Louis’s birthday party. Zayn picked Liam up early, since they had a bit of a drive to London._

_Usually, Zayn texted Liam when he was outside, but this time, he found himself getting out of his car and walking towards the door. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d made this decision, but it was too late to turn back. What if Liam was watching from the window?_

_The door was opened quickly after Zayn rang the bell, and facing him was a smiling, middle-aged woman who Zayn figured was Liam’s mother. Giving his best, most charming smile, he said,_

_“Hi, Mrs. Payne! I’ve come to pick up Liam. I’m Zayn, by the way.”_

_“Duh,” a voice from inside said, and Zayn turned his gaze to a younger woman sitting on the couch. He guessed that was one of Liam’s two sisters._

_“Ruth, hush,” the woman said, and then smiled at Zayn when he looked back at her. “I’m Karen. Come on in, I think Liam is just about ready.”_

_Zayn stepped in and Karen closed the door behind him. Ruth patted the spot on the couch next to her._

_“You’re welcome to take a seat. I don’t bite…unless you want me to.”_

_“Ruth, that is a terribly overused and awful pick-up line,” yet another woman, who had just come from what looked to be the kitchen, commented. Since the lady on the couch was Ruth, Zayn figured this one must be Liam’s other sister, Nicola._

_“It’s true, though,” Ruth said, and Karen sighed as she gently patted Zayn’s arm._

_“I’m sorry about my children,” she said, and Zayn couldn’t help but to laugh._

_“Just saying!” Ruth commented. “I might cost him a little more than his other girlfriends since I actually like to eat, but I think I’m a good catch.”_

_“Oh my god. What the hell?”_

_That came from Liam, and Zayn smiled when he saw him standing in the middle of the stairway, looking appalled at the conversation he’d just walked in on._

_“Aren’t you the one who’s saying I need to put myself out there more?” Ruth asked her brother._

_“Maybe not with my friends,” Liam said._

_“He’s straight, let him go,” Ruth said. Zayn silently applauded Liam on his ability to keep a poker face._

_“I know,” he said with a shrug._

_“He’s straight and he’d still probably date Liam before he would you,” Nicola teased._

_“You all are rude,” Ruth said._

_“I’ve come to save you,” Liam told Zayn as he lightly grabbed his arm and made his way to the door. With a laugh, Zayn turned briefly to wave to the women of Liam’s family._

_“It was nice to meet you all,” he said._

_“Probably not **all** of us,” Nicola commented, staring at her sister._

_“All of you,” Zayn assured them._

_Karen told the boys to have fun and be safe, and after assuring her they would, the two headed to Zayn’s car._

_“Sorry about that,” Liam commented. “I didn’t know you were planning to go to the door, or I would have warned against it.”_

_“It’s alright,” Zayn said. “I thought she was funny.”_

_“At least someone besides Ruth thinks she’s funny then,” Liam said._

_For the drive, Zayn let Liam pick the music. It didn’t matter much, as they liked most of the same stuff. About halfway there, they stopped for a snack and bathroom break, and Liam insisted that he had to take a couple of ‘just for them’ selfies._

_Numerous cars were already surrounding Louis’s house by the time the two of them arrived, and when his best friend opened the door, his eyes were unfocused, and his face flushed enough to show that he was fairly intoxicated._

_“Did I get the time of the party wrong?” Zayn asked as Louis pulled him into a one-armed hug; being careful to not spill even a drop of his drink as he did so. It had started to snow on the way there, but Zayn didn’t think it had slowed them down that much._

_“No. Everyone knows I’m the life of the party and wanted to show up early!” Louis said._

_“I see,” Zayn commented._

_“Hi, Liam!” Louis greeted his other guest and pulled him into a hug as well. Liam was taken by surprise, but he didn’t seem to mind, and he giggled as he patted Louis on the back._

_“What are you drinking?” he asked the almost-birthday boy, and Louis took a sip before answering, as if he had to remind himself._

_“Sex on the beach!” he answered. “Come on, let’s go get you two something to drink! It’s an open bar.”_

_Zayn and Liam followed Louis to the bar, where he ordered Zayn his favorite and allowed Liam to choose his own drink. Nodding to himself, satisfied once the men had drinks in their hands, Louis had to then excuse himself to answer the door for another party-goer._

_“It might be a good thing we’re staying with him tonight,” Liam commented._

_“Yeah, Louis’s birthday is a **big** celebration for him,” Zayn commented. “Actually, I think birthdays make him sad, so he goes all out to try and pretend. I’m sure he’ll be in tears over something or other by the end of the night.”_

_“It’s his party and he can cry if he wants to,” Liam said._

_“Exactly.”_

_Louis’s new guest turned out to be Niall, who Louis excitedly brought over so that he and Zayn could say hello. Even though Niall smiled and gave Zayn a hug, there was something about him that seemed sad. Of course, Zayn had come to expect that from Niall, who Martin had taken from an abusive home in Ireland to make him a star. Zayn had seen some of that sadness fade when Niall first started rising to fame, but it had crept up again somewhere along the way. He wished he could help, but Niall had rejected his every attempt. Some people, Martin said, just liked to be sad._

_Louis ordered shots for the four of them and then stumbled his way to the bathroom. Zayn was going to go with him, but Niall insisted that he would make sure he got there okay, so instead, Zayn took Liam out to the four-car garage, which was only housing two vehicles at the moment; Louis’s ‘blend in’ car, a Honda Civic, similar to Liam’s older one, and the Jaguar. Naturally, Liam’s gaze was drawn to the more expensive car._

_“Whoa,” he said under his breath as he walked forward to get a closer look. “It’s so beautiful.”_

_“Want to take that for a ride?” Zayn asked._

_“Definitely not!” Liam said._

_“I’ll drive,” Zayn offered. “Of course, it would be more fun in the summer when we could let the convertible down without freezing our nuts off.”_

_“How does Louis drive this thing?” he questioned. “I would be pissed to get even a speck of dirt on it.”_

_Zayn laughed and watched in amusement as Liam walked around the car, admiring every inch. Soon, Louis joined them._

_“Ah. You like the Jaguar,” he commented. There was yet another drink in his hand._

_“Well, yeah!” Liam said. “Who wouldn’t? It’s gorgeous.”_

_“Do you want it?”_

_“What?”_

_“I’m thinking of selling it,” Louis said. Liam laughed._

_“Even used, this is way out of my price range.”_

_“Only for now, and we can work something out,” Louis said. Liam stared at him as if he’d grown an extra head and Louis shrugged._

_“We’ll talk later,” he said. “Want to take it for a ride?”_

_“I already asked him,” Zayn said. “He said no.”_

_“Maybe when it’s not icy, snowy, and dark out,” Liam reasoned. Louis’s eyes grew wide._

_“It **is** snowing!” he exclaimed, as if he’d just remembered that fact._

_“Yeah…,” Zayn said. With a delighted laugh, Louis turned on his heel and ran back inside, but not before setting his nearly full drink on the ground._

_“He’s a mess,” Zayn commented, picking up the cup before he and Liam went inside. Already, Louis was nowhere to be seen. Zayn decided he would give him five minutes before he went searching, although the thought of what drunk Louis could get into within a five-minute time span did frighten him a little._

_Zayn took Liam back to the bar and ordered them both another drink while he kept an eye on his watch, waiting for five minutes to pass. The two hadn’t even gotten their drinks yet when suddenly, something cold and wet hit Zayn in the back. Gasping, he froze for a moment in shock before turning around to see Louis standing only a few feet away and grinning impishly._

_“Snowball fight!” he announced, and then took off outside. Zayn didn’t have much choice to run after him; revenge heavy on his mind. When Louis noticed that he was being followed, he screamed and ran faster, almost tripping on his way out the door, but managing to steady himself._

_Nobody else at the party seemed stupid enough to join the men outside as they ran around, throwing snowballs and pushing each other to the ground, but eventually, someone else did join them; Liam, holding Zayn’s coat._

_“If you’re going to be out here a while, you might want this!” he called out. Zayn’s fingers and lips were already starting to turn numb, so he made his way to his newer friend after verifying that Louis was distracted elsewhere for at least a couple of moments. He decided to pretend he didn’t know that Louis was busy making a bank of snowballs to pelt him with later._

_The snow was sinking into Zayn’s Converse as he walked, soaking his socks, and right before he reached Liam, Zayn stepped into a particularly deep pile of snow which popped his shoe right off his foot. Calling out, not wanting his sock to get any wetter than it already was, Zayn began hopping up and down, trying to keep his balance while reaching for his shoe. Liam rushed forward to help, but Zayn lost his balance right as Liam reached for him. Instead of grabbing Liam and regaining his footing, Zayn only succeeded in pulling Liam down with him as he fell, both screaming when Liam hit the cold ground with Zayn on top of him._

_“Shit, sorry, sorry!” Zayn said, trying to get up, but Liam gently pulled him back down, laughing so hard he could barely breathe._

_“Li?” Zayn asked worriedly. His friend didn’t answer; just kept laughing. “Liam, did you hit your head or something?”_

_“N-no,” Liam replied, eventually managing to calm down enough to speak after a few moments. “I just really love the universe sometimes.”_

_Zayn raised his brows questioningly, and Liam smiled before explaining._

_“See, I’ve been asking for a sign.”_

_“A sign?”_

_“Yeah; to let me know if I should kiss you or not, and if this wasn’t just the cheesiest fucking thing straight out of a romantic comedy, then I don’t know what is.”_

_“You want to kiss me?” Zayn asked quietly. There was a strange whirring in his ears and his heart suddenly picked up speed. Part of Zayn wondered if he was about ready to succumb to hypothermia, except he didn’t feel the cold much anymore._

_“Yeah, I do,” Liam replied. “Have for a while, to be honest.”_

_“Liam…,” Zayn said, his voice quieter still. “We can never be more than friends.”_

_It was too dark for Zayn to read Liam’s exact facial expression, but he hoped it wouldn’t show sadness or disappoint, and he **really** hoped the unknown expression wasn’t one of amusement from Liam being entertained that Zayn would ever even think Liam wanted more with him._

_After a moment, Liam said,_

_“I know, but friends kiss sometimes, right?”_

_“I don’t think they do.”_

_“Well…what if we made our own rules? What if we were friends who kissed each other sometimes?”_

_Zayn couldn’t argue with that logic; not that he tried hard. He wanted this too badly-he wanted Liam-and if he couldn’t have him in every way, then he supposed he should take what he could get._

_“Okay,” he said, and though it was dark, he thought Liam smiled. He gently pulled Zayn closer as he leaned forward, his eyes closing a mere second before Zayn’s. For an awkward moment, the men couldn’t find each other’s lips, but that didn’t matter once they finally made contact. Zayn’s heart fluttered and his head spun, but Liam didn’t seem to mind when Zayn’s fist clenched tighter around his shirt. Liam started to pull away, but Zayn hungrily found his lips again. He hadn’t known before that kissing felt so good, since the only time he’d kissed anyone was for a television show, movie, or music video, and it was never a man. This was his first kiss that mattered, he realized, and it had been more than worth the wait._

_When he couldn’t catch his breath, Zayn finally broke the kiss, and he knew he should feel dirty or at least be nervous over who could have seen, but he didn’t care about anything at this moment except Liam and savoring the way his lips had felt against Zayn’s and his strong hand on his back._

_Even though he hated the cold, Zayn thought he had a new appreciation for the snow. That was, until Louis pelted him in the face with a giant snowball._


	9. Depend On It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super long and probably could have been two chapters, but here we are. Sorry about that XD I also tried something new this time! Zayn's POV is the first part, and the second part is Liam's. Hopefully that doesn't throw anyone off.
> 
> Also, ***possible mini spoiler alert, skip if you don't care about warnings*** 
> 
> I just wanted to make sure that anyone that might have certain triggers read my tags. I always have to have some dark element in my stories (I'm working on that), and I don't want to take anyone by surprise with what's to come. If you have any further questions about content, you can ask me [here](https://it-hurts-doesnt-it.tumblr.com/) . I don't use that page much anymore, but I will make sure to check messages, especially over the next few days.

            _Right after Zayn was hit in the face by Louis’s snowball, Niall came running outside, yelling at the three of them for ‘being idiots’ and insisting that they were about to die. Zayn had to admit that this wasn’t the brightest thing he’d ever done, and after being carried bridle-style inside by Liam, who also managed to find the other’s shoe in the process, Zayn realized that he could barely feel his foot._

_Niall led the group upstairs to separate bathrooms, so that the three could run their extremities under hot water. Liam insisted he was fine, as he hadn’t even been outside five minutes, but he humored Niall anyway. He wasn’t gone long, and he found his way back to the bathroom Zayn was in as his friend was still regaining feeling in that one foot._

_“At least your toes aren’t black,” he commented, and Zayn nodded._

_“I’m okay,” he said. “More than okay.”_

_Liam smiled, and after glancing behind him to make sure they were still alone, he gave Zayn a quick kiss on the cheek._

_Niall brought Liam, Zayn, and Louis hot chocolate with a couple shots of whiskey. Louis was already half unconscious in his bed, so Niall drank his instead, once he’d made sure the former model was warm enough._

_“I’ll sleep in Lou’s room tonight and keep an eye on him,” Niall told Zayn. “You two go do…whatever.”_

_“Niall, it’s not like that,” Zayn said quietly as he glanced to Liam, who was brushing his teeth a few feet away. Niall simply shrugged._

_“I don’t care what it’s like or not like. People are always taking care of me, so I’m returning the favor. Have a good night.”_

_Zayn thanked him, and although he trusted Niall to keep a good watch over Louis, he knew he would probably be too worried to get much sleep anyway._

_When Liam had finished brushing his teeth, Zayn took his turn, and then crawled into the bed next to Liam. He could tell it surprised the other man, but he smiled, wrapping an arm around Zayn to bring him closer, and kissed his neck._

_“Good night,” he said into Zayn’s ear, causing him to involuntarily shiver.  Liam was kind enough not to comment about it._

_“‘Night,” Zayn said._

_As he figured, Zayn didn’t get much sleep that night, but only half of his thoughts were about Louis. The rest were of Liam, the kiss, and all the kisses that Zayn hoped were yet to come. Finally, after years of struggling, Zayn felt comfortable in his skin while he laid there next to Liam, and even though he knew that wouldn’t last; that as soon as he was out of Liam’s arms and this bed, facing the world again, he would turn back to his insecure, nervous self, he thought that, just maybe, being gay was worth the weightlessness he was feeling right now._

            It seemed like Zayn had just fallen asleep when a pounding on his door woke him up again.

            “Go away!” he said, though he wasn’t sure if he’d been loud enough for the person on the other side to hear. If they did, they didn’t care because they had the nerve to knock again. Groaning, Zayn put his pillow over his face, figuring that eventually they would give up. Whoever was out there seemed to have similar thoughts; seeming to believe that eventually Zayn would give in and answer the door. They were right, but they were probably not ready for the wrath of a sleep-deprived Zayn, the singer thought as he marched to the door.

            “Oh,” Liam said in surprise when Zayn flung the door open with more force than he’d meant to. Liam’s eyes traveled to Zayn’s clenched fists, which he quickly relaxed, because yeah, he was still annoyed that Liam had been so determined to wake him, but, again; it was Liam, so he was forgiven before a ‘sorry’ was even issued.

            “Everything okay?” Zayn asked, letting mild annoyance show through his voice, even though he felt bad about it.

            “Yeah,” Liam replied. “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

            “Everything’s fine,” Zayn said. “I was sleeping.”

            “Oh. Sorry.”

            Liam added,

            “But it’s eleven in the morning so I was getting a little worried.”

            “No need to worry,” Zayn told him. “I didn’t sneak off to snort or pop something.”

            “That’s not what I meant at all,” Liam said, but Zayn had already turned and headed to the bathroom, allowing Liam to either let himself in or see himself out. Zayn shut the bathroom door-noting that Liam had chosen to let himself in-and nearly jumped when he saw his reflection in the mirror. His hair was going every which way from his night of tossing and turning, his eyes were bloodshot, and his complexion pale. If Liam didn’t believe he was sober and clean, Zayn honestly couldn’t have blamed him. He nearly questioned it himself.

            After using the toilet and washing his hands, Zayn wet his hair and matted it down the best he could. He put eyedrops in, but he felt it was going to take a professional to help him look human again. After sighing quietly, Zayn exited the bathroom. Liam was still standing right inside the door, where Zayn had left him. For a moment, he and Zayn stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Finally, Liam settled on,

            “How about some brunch?”

            They ordered room service, because Zayn did not need to be photographed and published online in such a state, but Liam seemed to feel better when Zayn ate a bit.

            “Do you want to do anything before the show tonight?” Liam asked when he noticed Zayn slowing down on his food.

            “Like what?” Zayn asked.

            “I don’t know,” Liam said. “Anything you want.”

            “I need to go on a jog,” Zayn stated, feeling antsy. It had been a busy few days leading up to the tour, and so he hadn’t gotten to participate in his routine for longer than he would have liked.

            “Okay,” Liam said. “I know a path not too far from here. It’s fairly private, so we shouldn’t have much trouble. Let me change shirts and then we can go…unless you don’t want me to tag along.”

            “It doesn’t matter to me,” Zayn said, and then, thinking that had sounded too cold, he spoke again. “You should come.”

            Liam smiled, almost the way he used to smile at Zayn-with his entire face and body-then said he would be right back before rushing out of the room to change. Zayn put on a t-shirt and joggers, along with a fresh layer of deodorant and some foundation to bring color to his skin. Just as he was finishing up, Liam returned.

            Before going back to Zayn’s room, Liam had alerted his driver that the two would need a ride, and diligently, the man was already waiting for the pair outside of the hotel. Like a gentleman, Liam held the car door open for Zayn before going to the other side to climb in. Just like the previous day, he sat in the middle even though there was no third body crowding them in the backseat.

            Zayn received a text on the way to the trail, and though he was hoping it would be Louis or-by some miracle, his family- saying they would be at his show tonight, it was Martin, asking if Zayn wanted to go to lunch. He ignored the text.

            Once arriving at the trail, Liam’s driver said he would be waiting for them in the parking lot and the men went on their way.

            “I thought we were going on a jog, not a run!” Liam called out after Zayn when it became apparent he was struggling to keep up.

            “Come on, mate!  You’re in better shape than me!” Zayn called back.

            “Apparently not,” Liam said under his breath. Smiling, Zayn changed his pace to a brisk walk, allowing Liam to catch up with him.

            “You’re a mess,” Zayn informed the other, noting the sweat covering his forehead, lip, and shirt.

            “I know,” Liam said. “Maybe I should stop concentrating on weightlifting so much and get back into cardio. Jesus.”

            With a laugh, Zayn reached into the backpack he’d brought along with him and handed Liam one of the two water bottles he had.

            “You’re a saint,” Liam said before chugging a quarter of the water in record time.

            “That’s the first and only time I’ll ever hear that,” Zayn said, taking a drink from his own bottle.

            “Well, you are,” Liam insisted. Zayn huffed out a laugh, shaking his head.

            “Hey, Zayn,” Liam said.

            “Yeah?            ”

            “Let’s take a selfie.”

            “Really, Liam? We’re all sweaty and gross right now.”

            “No, _I’m_ sweaty and gross right now. You actually look better since we’ve been out here.”

            “Oh, thanks, so I looked gross before?” Zayn teased. Knowing he was trying to take the piss out of him, Liam smiled.

            “Not gross,” he said. “Sick as hell, but not gross.”

            Zayn shook his head again, but he smiled for the camera as Liam took a picture of the both of them. In contrast to Zayn’s smile, Liam was frowning, his eyes wide and his head angled in a way that greatly showcased his sweat. He typed something, and when Zayn’s phone buzzed, alerting him that Liam had posted, he couldn’t help but to immediately look.

            _Let’s go on a jog at high noon while still suffering of jet lag from the previous day, he said…it will be fun, he said…_

Laughing out loud, Zayn shoved Liam lightly, barely enough to move him.

            “You’re the one who wanted to come,” he pointed out.

            “So you _didn’t_ want me to come,” Liam said.

            “That isn’t what I meant.”

            “Uh-huh.”

            After checking his phone, Liam said,

            “Look at that. There are already about three hundred likes on that photo.”

            “That’s ridiculous,” Zayn said, but he had to admit that he liked seeing himself on Liam’s Instagram again. He’d been made to take down the pictures of him and Zayn he’d had on the site before his first single came out. It didn’t go with their image of mortal enemies.

            Whatever travesties had led to where they were now, Zayn was glad that they could finally be friends publicly.

            “Seriously, though, we can head back,” Zayn said. “We need you on your A-game tonight.”

            “In that case, a nap is definitely in order,” Liam said.

            “I could use a nap too since someone decided to nearly break my door down waking me up this morning.”

            “I thought you were dead!”

            Zayn laughed.

            “I wish,” he muttered. He didn’t know why he’d said that because he didn’t _want_ to be dead. There were aspects of his life that he wished would fade out, but he didn’t physically want to leave Earth.

            Realizing his error immediately after, he smiled, hoping then that Liam would take the whole thing as a joke, but he didn’t. His eyes were wide and sad, and he grabbed Zayn’s arm to stop him from walking, leaving them both standing awkwardly in the middle of a jogging trail.

            “You need to tell someone you feel that way,” he said. “Someone other than me.”

            “I…I _don’t_ feel that way,” Zayn said. “That was a joke; a terrible joke. I’m sorry.”

            Liam kept staring at Zayn with that same concerned and damn near heartbroken expression, so Zayn cleared his throat awkwardly.

            “Dark sense of humor,” he explained. “It’s a coping mechanism, my therapist said.”

            His therapist hadn’t truly said that to him because Zayn had never shown her his ‘dark sense of humor.’ In rehab and during all of his sessions afterward, he was always on his best behavior, making sure he appeared as healthy as possible without it being obvious he was faking. Zayn could recognize the joke for what it was, though, and he hoped that reminding Liam he did have a therapist would ease his worries.

            “Half of the things people joke about aren’t really jokes; they’re what they truly think or feel but can’t bring themselves to say seriously,” Liam told Zayn, following as he began to walk again.

            “This half was a joke,” Zayn assured his friend. “I don’t want to die, Liam. If I did, I would have just done it.”

            That was supposed to, again, comfort Liam, but instead, his friend just whispered ‘fuck’ under his breath and stopped Zayn once again.

            “Liam, what-” Zayn began, but the breath was temporarily taken from him when Liam pulled him tightly against his body. There they stood embracing in the middle of the jogging trail, Liam’s sweat soaking part of the way through Zayn’s clothes, but he didn’t care. As Liam had pointed out, they’d been covered in each other’s sweat before. Besides, no one was around to see them, and even if they were, Zayn still didn’t know if he would care.

            Funny how these epiphanies came to him too late, he thought, except that it wasn’t funny at all.

            Zayn had thought he and Liam would be napping together, but when they reached Zayn’s door, all Liam said was, “See you later,” and then kept walking to his bedroom.

            “Bye,” Zayn said.

            Lying in bed, Zayn saw that Liam’s picture of them had gained thousands of likes as well as comments about how cute they were, together and separately. If Liam wasn’t careful, people were probably going to start ‘shipping’ them.

            Just as Zayn was falling asleep, his phone went off, pulling him from his state of semi-consciousness. It must not only have been Zayn that had a death wish, he thought as he huffed angrily and pulled out his phone.

            Unfortunately, it wasn’t Liam waking Zayn that time. The singer had received another text from his manager; this one reading,

            _Since lunch was a no go, how about an early dinner? My treat._

Rolling his eyes, Zayn started to reply that he didn’t feel well, but then Martin would likely insist on coming to check on him. If he said he’d just eaten, the older man would wonder why he hadn’t taken him up on the lunch offer. Therefore, Zayn decided it was best not to reply and hope Martin wouldn’t bring it up when they saw each other in person.

            Zayn never fell into a good sleep, and he was yawning when he joined Liam in the car once it was time to go to the concert hall.

            “Just wake up?” Liam asked, smiling a bit.

            “Nah,” Zayn said. “I didn’t really get much of a nap in.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry.”

            “It’s alright. How was your nap?”

            “Shitty.”

            “Oh. Sorry.”

            With a small laugh, Liam said,

            “It’s okay.”

            Luckily for Zayn, Martin was nowhere to be seen when he and Liam arrived at the venue, putting off his fumbling for an excuse as to why he didn’t reply a little longer. After saying a pleasant hello to Kiki, Zayn went straight to his dressing room, where the stylist soon joined.

            “You’ve got your work cut out for you today,” Zayn teased, and she gave a small smile.

            “Are you being good, Zayn?” she asked.

            “Always,” the singer said. The stylist, a middle-aged woman that had barely seemed to age since Zayn met her at twelve years old, gave the other a stern look. Zayn had stayed with her a few times during his childhood, and he always enjoyed his time with her. He felt almost as comfortable around her as he did his own mother, but she traveled just as much as Zayn did, so he was never able to stay with her long.

            “Seriously, Delilah, I’m fine,” Zayn said. “Just jet legged.”

            “You better get used to it, sugar, or it’s going to be a long, miserable tour.”

            “I know. I will.”

            “I’m proud of you for pulling yourself back together and getting yourself back out there,” Delilah said. “Lord knows what I wanted to do to that man when I found out what he did, and your family!”

            “Thanks,” Zayn said, and he did appreciate her words, but that didn’t stop him from feeling uncomfortable. Liam and Delilah could tell him that he didn’t deserve what happened and that they were proud of him, but Zayn felt as if he did deserve it and there was nothing to be proud of him for.

            The two didn’t talk much after that. Delilah hummed as she put various products on Zayn’s face and in his hair, somehow making him look human again. Once she was finished, she clucked at herself proudly and moved to the side so Zayn could look at the reflection of her work.

            “Jet lag is no match for me,” she said. With a smile, Zayn nodded his agreement.

            “Thanks, Del,” he said.

            “Of course, gorgeous. Now go get something to eat. I’m half tempted to put padding in your clothes to puff you out a little bit.”

            Zayn laughed, only because he wouldn’t put it past his stylist to do such a thing, even as a joke.

            “You should have seen me a few weeks ago, before Liam got to me,” Zayn said, and the lady shook her head.

            “If you were any thinner than that, I’m sure you would disappear when you turned to the side.”

            Zayn rolled his eyes but was smiling to show that he wasn’t offended by what the woman was saying. She meant well.

            “Del, in your line of work, I’m sure you’ve seen much thinner,” Zayn commented.

            “I have,” she confirmed. “That’s why I’m making sure you don’t end up the same way.”

            “With you and Liam on my case, I’m not sure it would be possible,” Zayn said. Delilah smiled, clearly proud of herself.

            “Damn right,” she said. Then, lowering her voice and leaning closer to Zayn, the woman added, “I know I may be overstepping my boundaries here, but I can’t help but to think that you and Liam would be the cutest couple. Have you ever considered giving him a shot?”

            “Liam is straight,” Zayn said out of habit, as Liam had done for him many times even though it turned out to be pointless in the end.

            “Zayn, I know he dated that Thomas Cleveland guy or whatever his name was.”

            “Clover.”

            “Yes. Him. I never did see the chemistry with those two but with you and Liam…I could be wrong, but I feel there could be something there between you.”

            _You have no idea_ , Zayn inwardly told the woman, but to her face, he claimed,

            “I don’t think I’m ready to date again yet. Not that I have much to lose anymore, but I just don’t think I’m ready.”

            “Understandable, dear,” the woman said, stroking Zayn’s cheek in a motherly manner. In fact, Zayn’s own mother used to do the same thing, and his chest suddenly ached. Luckily, if Delilah noticed his pain, she let it slide.

            “Seriously, now; go eat something,” she said, giving Zayn a light push forward.

            “I’m going, I’m going,” he said. Now that he thought about it, he was hungry; starving, even. Zayn wondered if he should be alarmed at his inability to notice when he was in need of food, but he chalked it up to a side effect of his medication. Even though he hadn’t taken it for a little while, the effects could probably linger.

            On his way to the buffet that the venue had supplied for them backstage, Zayn came across Liam and his family. He tried to pass unnoticed, but was unsuccessful, and he forced his best smile when Liam called him over.

            “Hey, guys,” Zayn said to Liam’s family, and was surprised when Liam’s mother pulled him into a hug. He’d had a few brief conversations with the woman over the years, but he always figured she was simply being nice. She was grateful to Zayn for his part in getting Liam’s career off the ground, but he doubted he was the type of guy she wanted her children around, whether they were just friends or something more.

            Before the hug was even over, Zayn decided it was probably a sympathy hug, and even though he appreciated the gesture, it was only making his chest hurt worse.    

            “Hi, Zayn,” Karen said as she let go of her son’s friend. She gave him a warm smile and asked, “How are you doing?”

            “Great,” he answered. “How are all of you?”

            Liam’s family assured him they were fine. Geoff, Liam’s dad, whom Zayn had only met once, shook his hand and the girls waved, kind smiles that looked just like their mom’s on their faces.

            “I’m glad you all got to come,” Zayn said pleasantly, though it was true. He would always be grateful to Liam’s family for being so supportive of his life choices and romantic preferences. He was sure Liam didn’t take any of it for granted, but Zayn was glad he would never know how awful it felt to be hated by those he shared blood with.

            “Of course!” Karen said in reply to Zayn. “We wanted to come yesterday, but Liam doesn’t like anyone he knows to come to the first show.”

            “Nerves are already worse the first night,” Liam commented.

            “I know, honey,” Karen said patiently.

            Zayn stuck around long enough to not seem rude and then excused himself to get some food. The hungry feeling had left him, but he knew he was still in need of nutrition so he supposed he could bring himself to eat a bit. Besides, maybe eating would distract him from the desire to run to the nearby liquor store and down a bottle of the strongest alcohol he could find.

            The buffet was in eyesight when Zayn was stopped again by a pair of hands covering his eyes from behind. Freezing, Zayn wanted to ask who was touching him, but he seemed unable.

            “Guess who,” the person said when they realized they were getting nothing from Zayn.

            “Lou,” the singer sighed, turning around and pulling his friend in.

            “Hey, mate!” Louis said, hugging Zayn just as tightly as Zayn was him, if not tighter. “How’s it going?”

            “Fine; good,” Zayn said.

            “Sorry I couldn’t come last night,” Louis said. “Harry and I went on an impulsive trip, and I sent you a good luck text only to realize later that I had no signal, so you probably never got it.”

            “I didn’t,” Zayn confirmed. “It’s okay, though. Where did you go?”

            “Paris.”

            “An impulsive trip to Paris, Lou? That sounds like such a diva thing to do.”

            “Shut up,” Louis said with a laugh. Then, “Do you notice anything different about me?!”

            Zayn’s friend made a show of posing for him, first propping his chin on his hand and smiling, then doing a duck face and blowing a kiss. When that didn’t work, he moved his hand further up his jawline and turned his head left and right until, finally, something on Louis’s finger caught the light and hit Zayn’s eye.

            “Oh my god!” he said, grabbing his friend’s hand and gaping at the thin silver band with small diamonds spaced out along the surface. Louis laughed, allowing Zayn to flip and turn his hand as he studied the ring at every angle.

            “That better just be an engagement ring and not an impulsive wedding ring.”

            “It’s not a wedding ring,” Louis assured him.

            “Good because I’m obviously going to be the best man and the best man can’t miss the wedding!”

            “Well, duh,” Louis said. He laughed lightly again as Zayn gave him another hug.

            “I’m so happy for you,” he said, and he was, so he wasn’t sure why he felt even sadder than a mere few moments ago.

            “Thank you,” Louis said.

            “So who asked who? How, and when?” Zayn interrogated his friend because he wasn’t going to let his selfishness and poor mental health ruin this moment. Besides, he really wanted that best man title.

            “Harry asked me while we were stargazing at the park last night. He was talking about a bunch of astrology shit that I don’t understand, but he’s cute when he gets all excited and I love his voice, so I let him go on. From there, he explained the history of why people wish on stars and asked if any of the wishes I’d given to the stars had come true. I said they hadn’t, and he said his hadn’t either but he was hoping that changed that night, and then he asked me!”

            “That’s adorable,” Zayn said. “Whatever you guys need help with, I’ll be there.”

            “I know you will, and thank you,” Louis said. His smile slowly faded and his voice lowered when he spoke again.

            “Hey, Zayn? I’m really sorry that we kicked you out when you were going through such a rough time. I’m a shit friend and if you don’t want to be in my wedding, I understand.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous, Lou,” Zayn said. “It was tough love. If you hadn’t, I probably would have stayed at your place, getting high and eating ice cubes naked in front of the freezer every night. Besides, it’s not like you kicked me to the streets. I had a home.”

            “I know, but you needed more than a home. You needed a friend.”

            “I have a friend; the _best_ friend.”

            Louis hugged Zayn again, but not before Zayn saw the tears that had formed in his friend’s eyes. Rubbing the other man’s back, Zayn said,

            “If that was your shitty way of trying to get around having me as your best man, it didn’t work.”

            “No,” Louis said, his voice only a little shaky. “I was hoping you would be my best man.”

            Pulling gently away, Louis gave Zayn a small smile. Zayn asked,

            “So why didn’t Harry come? Is he still mad that you saw my dick?”

            “He was never mad, and he’s here. I wanted to tell you the news by myself.”

            “Well, you did, now go get him so I can congratulate him on landing one of the funniest, sweetest, hottest guys on this planet.”

            Zayn held his composure while congratulating Harry and listening to the newly engaged couple bounce wedding ideas off each other and Zayn. He kept it together while Liam was in the background, talking and laughing with his family, and he didn’t say a word when Martin passed by, glaring daggers into Zayn’s head.

            Louis must have noticed the odd behavior coming from Zayn’s manager as well, because he stopped talking as the older man passed; everything about him appearing frozen. Finally, when Martin was out of earshot, Louis asked,

            “What’s he doing here?”

            “He said he wanted to tour with me for a bit,” Zayn answered with a shrug. Louis’s eyebrows pulled together and even Harry looked concerned, his gaze shifting back and forth between his fiancé and his friend.

            “That’s…weird,” Louis said.

            “Martin’s weird,” Zayn said with a shrug. “What else is new, eh?”

            Once the backstage bustle became frantic, signaling that it was nearing showtime, Louis and Harry left to find their seats, as did Liam’s family. Most of the food at the buffet was gone, but that was okay because Zayn had completely lost his appetite by that point. Instead, Zayn stepped outside, wishing he’d known about the engagement before, when he would have had time to go to the liquor store and claim he was drinking in celebration.

            When Martin joined Zayn outside less than a minute later, Zayn’s first instinct was to go right back in, but he found that he was too tired. Leaning against the wall, Zayn tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting a deep sigh escape in the hopes it would take everything else he was feeling with it.

            It didn’t.

            “Someone is in a rather sour mood today,” Martin commented lightly. Sighing once again, louder, Zayn opened his eyes and narrowed them towards the other man, who laughed.

            “I basically raised you through puberty, Zayn,” he said. “You don’t scare me.”

            Zayn didn’t bother replying with anything but an eye roll. Chuckling to himself, Martin got a fresh pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, opened them, put one in his mouth and then offered them to Zayn.

            “Toss them,” Zayn instructed.

            “If even one of them drops, you owe me a new pack,” Martin said.

            “Whatever.”

            Closing the case, Martin threw it to Zayn, who caught it with barely any effort.

            “You’re going to have to come over here if you want it lit, though,” the older man commented, but Zayn showed him that he was wrong by pulling a lighter from his own pocket.

            “I thought you quit?” Martin asked.

            “I did.”

            “So you kept a lighter, why…?”

            “To burn bridges.”

            Martin lifted his eyebrows, laughing to himself.

            “You’re one odd guy, Zayn,” he said.

            “Ditto.”

            “I didn’t say that I don’t like it.”

            Martin made his way towards Zayn, who straightened his posture and further narrowed his eyes, communicating that the other man was not welcome. Of course, it made no difference, and he stopped when the tips of his shoes were a half an inch away from touching Zayn’s.

            “You’re well past eighteen now, Zaynie,” the man said after doing a quick scan of the area to verify that they were alone.

            “Your point?” Zayn asked.

            “We could come out together,” Martin suggested.

            “I’m already out,” Zayn reminded the other. “I was outed against my will.”

            “I meant that we could be official and come out as a couple.”

            “You’re kidding, right?”

            “No. Stars marry their managers all the time.”

            “Oh, we’re talking about marriage now?”

            Martin shrugged.

            “I’m not saying it would happen anytime soon, but I think we could live happily ever after, Zayn. Don’t you?”

            Zayn honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He gawked at his manager, wondering if he was having some sort of psychotic break. The man seemed so delusional that Zayn almost felt bad for him, but then he remembered who he was talking to.

            “You know what? You’re right, Martin,” Zayn said. The older man started to smile, but startled when Zayn flicked the ashes from his cigarette in his direction. He made sure not to burn the man, but the momentary look of fear in his eyes fueled Zayn. He continued,

            “We should tell the world our whole story.”

            “I don’t think they need to know _everything_ ,” Martin reasoned. He tried to glare at Zayn, but he was notably unsettled. Zayn smiled.

            “Why not? It’s such a heartwarming story. I’m sure the public would find it _adorable_ that you flew all the way from California to London to work with me because you’d seen me in a film and fell instantly in love. They’ll find it admirable, I’m sure, that you flew me back to California to help me further my career and that, since I was so young, you had enough to restraint until I was ‘a man’ and ‘ready for it’ at the mature age of-”

            “Shut the fuck up,” Martin hissed. With nothing more than a smile, Zayn put out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray and began heading in, hoping Martin couldn’t tell that his hands and legs were shaking.

            “Z?”

            With one hand on the door handle, Zayn looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow impatiently. His manager asked,

            “You’re not really going to tell anybody, are you?”

            “I don’t know,” Zayn said. “But you might want to think twice next time you tell me I don’t scare you because I really, _really_ should.”

            Martin paled, and for a moment, Zayn felt better than he’d felt since he quit getting high. Just like with the drugs, though, it didn’t last, and then Zayn was in the bathroom, just like the night before, sick with images he didn’t let inside his head very often.

            “Zayn?”

            If he could have, Zayn would have groaned when Liam knocked on the stall door. Instead, he finished coughing up what he had left and then, his voice hoarse, he said,

            “Be out in a sec.”

            After wiping his mouth and flushing the toilet, Zayn opened the stall door to find a worried Liam on the other side.

            “Are you alright? What’s going on?”

            “I’m fine,” Zayn assured his friend. He stepped around him to wash his hands and rinse his mouth out, but Liam wasn’t accepting his answer.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked.

            “Nothing. I just had my first cigarette in years, and I don’t think my body knew how to handle it, is all.”

            “You’re smoking again?”

            “I don’t think I’ll make it a habit again,” Zayn assured him. The cigarette had been glorious for one amazing moment, but now Zayn thought he was going to think back to the conversation that had just taken place with his manager whenever he so much as smelled smoke.

            “Do you want to be here?” Liam asked. He didn’t sound defense or upset; just concerned.

            “I do,” Zayn told him, which was the truth. If nothing else, he couldn’t think of anywhere he would rather be.

            Liam studied Zayn’s face, but whatever he was thinking, he didn’t say it. Instead, he commented,

            “You need tea and honey for your voice. I’m going to go get you some. You sure you feel okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m good, Liam. I can get my own tea. You don’t have to worry about me.”

            “I do, actually,” Liam claimed. “Worrying about you is kind of my second job.”

            “Hopefully you’re not expecting payment for that.”

            “Well, now that you mention it…”

            Zayn laughed, shaking his head.

            “I’m going to get that tea now. Kiki’s probably about to go on, isn’t she?”

            “Actually, she just did.”

            “Oh. Shit.”

            Zayn hurried out of the bathroom, with Liam promising to join him in a minute after he used the toilet. He’d barely gotten two sips of his tea in before he was rushed to his dressing room to change into his first outfit. After that, Delilah fixed his hair and makeup. Zayn wanted to brush his teeth before going onstage, but there was no time. He hadn’t gotten a chance to finish his tea either, and even though Liam told him he sounded fine, Zayn wasn’t sure if that was the truth.

            Given the physical and emotional upheaval his body and mind had just been put through, Zayn didn’t have high expectations for his performance that night. However, once the spotlight found him onstage and the screams of the audience became louder than even the night before, the anxiety ebbed away and pure adrenaline took its place. Zayn may not have a family or a fiancé, but he had fans, and even if they liked him for the wrong reasons, they at least _liked_ him, and so Zayn was going to give them what they came for; a show.

*****

            _After kissing Zayn the first time, Liam regretted all the moments when he’d almost taken the chance before but been too afraid. All those days that could have been spent kissing Zayn; wasted…_

_Well, they weren’t wasted, Liam rationalized, because he’d still been spending time with Zayn, which he always enjoyed whether they were kissing or not. Still, he felt sorry for the Liam who hadn’t known what he was missing out on. He’d only kissed one other person, but he thought Zayn was probably the best kisser in the world._

_Depending on the type of kiss they shared, Liam’s whole physiology changed. When they were lost in passion, rolling around on the floor, or bed, or accidentally pressing up against the horn in Zayn’s car, Liam’s heart rate picked up. His body temperature rose and sometimes his head even spun. Then there were the soft kisses that they would share before parting ways for the night, or just because they thought the other looked particularly cute at a given moment. The quick, soft kisses seemed to slow Liam’s heart, relaxing him and, for a moment, giving him a sense that all was right in the world._

_“That was an awful film,” Zayn, lying next to Liam in his bed, commented when the credits of the comedy they’d just watched started to roll._

_“You didn’t like it?!” Liam asked, hitting the ‘stop’ button on the remote so they no longer had to listen to the annoying end credit song._

_“No. Did you?”_

_“No. That’s why I’m wondering why you didn’t say something so we could have turned it off and watched something better.”_

_“I figured if you didn’t like it, you would have said something.”_

_“That’s what I thought,” Liam said with a laugh. “Oh well. Too late now.”_

_“That was about ninety-seven minutes of our lives we’ll never get back,” Zayn commented._

_“Yeah. I know something fun we can do, though.”_

_“What’s that?”_

_Propping himself up on one arm, Liam scooted closer to Zayn, who smiled briefly when he saw Liam coming in for a kiss. His eyes closed a second before Liam’s, and, unlike their first kiss, the two expertly found each other’s lips. Zayn gave a small ‘hm’ of approval, triggering Liam’s heart rate to spike. Liam used his thumb to gently stroke Zayn’s cheek as they kissed, and Zayn’s hands found their way to Liam’s hair. After pulling Zayn closer still, both men made a sound of pleasure, and Zayn gently pulled Liam’s hair as Liam softly bit his bottom lip. Afterward, Liam moved his kiss down Zayn’s chin, jawline, and neck until he found the spot where there was still a faint bruise from their previous kissing session. Zayn gasped and then moaned when Liam started creating a fresh new bruise, and Liam’s temperature rose so much and so quickly that he almost ripped off his own shirt right then and there._

_As he always did when Liam was just about satisfied with the mark he’d left, Zayn tensed when the suction against his neck became more intense. Also like always, Liam asked,_

_“Does it hurt?”_

_“No,” Zayn said, his voice husky._

_“Do you want me to stop?” Liam asked._

_“Fuck no.”_

_So Liam kept going until he feared seriously injuring Zayn’s skin if he went any longer. Cupping Liam’s face in both hands, Zayn moved his head so that he could kiss him._

_“You’re right,” he said. “That was fun.”_

_“Yeah?” Liam asked. He’d started to run his hand along Zayn’s waistline slowly, gauging a reaction. When Zayn gave a small smile, Liam moved down, massaging the other’s thigh. Zayn began kissing him again, and when it got to the point where Liam knew he had to get moving so things wouldn’t end prematurely-it had been a while for him, okay?-he moved inwards on Zayn’s thigh until he found what he was looking for. Instinctively, Liam moaned, his body and mind already excited for what was about to come, but his moan was drowned out by Zayn’s gasp as his body tensed again._

_“You okay?” Liam asked, immediately removing his hand from the area._

_“Y-yeah,” Zayn said, starting to kiss Liam again. Liam broke the kiss long enough to ask,_

_“Is this okay?”_

_“Mhm.”_

_Reconnecting the kiss, Zayn kissed Liam deeper. Liam found Zayn’s bulge again, and when he didn’t tense that time, Liam used his free hand to unsnap his pants. He kissed the tiny bit of skin that unbuttoning the snap had done, and then he positioned himself over Zayn, who was already starting to breathe heavy._

_“You’re so hot,” Liam said. Zayn didn’t verbally reply but reached out to shakily unbuckle Liam’s belt. Liam removed it and tossed it to the ground, but Zayn turned his focus to Liam’s shirt. After that, too, had been thrown aside, Liam removed Zayn’s and then unzipped his pants. He helped him slide them down past his ankles before taking off his own trousers, leaving both men in only their underwear. Zayn’s were purple, Liam’s favorite color, and he could fully see his size outlined._

_“Fuck, so hot,” he whispered. He kissed Zayn’s lips one more time before leaving a trail down his chest and to his waistline. Slowly, Liam started sliding Zayn’s underwear down, but before anything could be exposed, Zayn suddenly turned into a ninja and was off the bed before Liam could even process what was going on._

_“No, no, no, stop, stop; please stop,” Zayn said, despite the fact that Liam couldn’t have been doing anything even if he’d wanted to, since Zayn was now somehow out of reach._

_“What’s wrong?” Liam asked, worried that he’d misread Zayn’s body language and that he just ruined everything with the other man._

_“I don’t want to do this; not yet,” Zayn said, his eyes wide. He pulled his underwear up as high as he could without giving himself a wedgie. Liam thought it was subconscious when he moved even farther away from him._

_“Okay,” Liam said, sitting comfortably on the bed and fixing himself as well. “Then we won’t.”_

_Liam didn’t think he sounded angry or upset. He shouldn’t have, since he **wasn’t** either of those things, but it looked like Zayn wanted to cry._

_“Sorry,” he said._

_“Zayn, it’s no big deal,” Liam assured him._

_“It’s not…It’s not you. I like you and you’re super hot, it’s just…I’m not ready yet.”_

_“And that’s perfectly fine.”_

_Liam had made it a point to soften his tone, since Zayn was still visibly upset._

_“I would rather wait until we’re both one hundred percent into it. I wouldn’t have it any other way, actually,” Liam told him._

_“Do you hate me?”_

_“What? No! Why would you think that?”_

_Zayn shrugged, keeping his head down as he got dressed again. Liam followed suit, and Zayn notably startled when he saw him move off the bed._

_“Z, is there something you want or need to tell me?” Liam asked. Zayn hesitated for a brief moment before shaking his head._

_“No,” he verbalized. “Just…please don’t hate me. And please don’t tell anyone.”_

_“I don’t and I won’t,” Liam promised. “I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable.”_

_“It’s not you,” Zayn said again._

_“From now on, you call the shots, alright?” Liam asked, forming a small smile in the hopes to put Zayn at ease. “We’ll go as fast or as slow as you want; with anything. And I will be perfectly fine with whatever we do or don’t do.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Of course.”_

_Zayn thought about it, then nodded and slowly made his way back over to the bed._

_“You can be a **little** mad at me,” Zayn commented, slowly sitting down on the edge of the mattress. “I totally just blue balled you.”_

_“Zayn, I’m not twelve,” Liam said with a laugh. “I’m fairly certain I will be alright.”_

_“Do you want me to, like…I don’t know…Find some porn for you?” Zayn asked, and Liam laughed again; so hard that he snorted._

_“No, no. I think I will be fine without.”_

_“Alright. Just trying to help,” Zayn said._

_“I appreciate it,” Liam told him. “Your turn to pick the film.”_

“Whoa. He’s killing it tonight.”

            Liam hadn’t known Kiki was standing next to him, just behind the curtain, out of view from the audience. Even though it was loud from Zayn’s performance, he’d been so lost in the show that he startled when Kiki spoke to him.

            “Yeah, he is,” Liam agreed, giving the woman a smile as he spared her a glance, but his eyes quickly found their way back to Zayn. It wasn’t that Zayn hadn’t done wonderful the night before, because he had, but this night was different. The nerves that Liam had picked up from the other man so strongly only minutes ago seemed to be gone. He sang louder and with more confidence than Liam had ever heard and pranced around the stage like the world was watching. Typically, Zayn kept to himself, even on stage. He would wave and talk to the audience between a few songs and he would move his body enough to keep the crowd going, but that night, he engaged with his dancers; nodding at them, smiling at them, and even dancing with them a bit. He jumped around telling the crowd to ‘give him more energy’ and winked at men in the audience he thought were cute. The fans were loving it, but it made Liam uneasy, though he couldn’t explain why.

            Of course, Liam had been uneasy ever since their jog. Zayn wasn’t acting like himself, onstage or off.

            Liam was eventually called away from the curtain to finish getting touched up for his own performance. On his way to the dressing room, he was stopped by Zayn’s manager, who grabbed his arm and stepped in front of him.

            “Have you talked to Zayn?” he asked before Liam could ask what he was doing or get on him for nearly making him trip.

            “He’s onstage,” Liam said, looking at the man as if he were crazy, as Zayn claimed he was.

            “I mean before that,” Martin said.

            “I talked to him this morning when we went on a jog and a little before his performance,” Liam answered, and then asked, “Why?”

            “Did he say anything about me?”

            Part of Liam wanted to say yes in the hopes that the other man would give some sort of clue as to why that mattered. He felt as if that would only come back around and hurt Zayn, though, so he told the truth.

            “No. You never came up,” he told him.

            “Okay. Good.”

            With no further discussion, Martin let go of Liam’s arm and walked away. Liam liked to think he wasn’t judgmental, but he had to admit there was something unstable about that man. With a quick shake of his head, he did his best to forget about that strange encounter and went to put on his first outfit.

            It took Liam a long time to be able to get to Zayn once his set was over. It seemed everyone from backstage was swarming him to tell him how amazing he did and that they were so proud. When Louis and Harry came backstage, the crowd dispersed, letting Zayn have time with his friends, and Liam took that as a chance to give his congratulations as well.

            “Looks like we have to cancel the rest of the show because you just stole it,” Liam said, and Zayn smiled.

            “Whatever,” he commented, giving Liam a quick, one-armed hug. “You’re who they’re here for.”

            “Not that group of guys in the front row,” Liam disagreed.

            “Oh my god, did you see that blonde one with the spiked hair and thick eyeliner?!” Louis asked the group. “He looked so nineties, but it was oddly working for him. He was cu-ute!”

            After a moment, Louis thought to add,

            “Not as cute as you, though, dear.”

            Harry smiled as Louis stroked his cheek and then kissed him. Zayn made a gagging noise.

            “I’m nauseated now,” he said. “Be right back.”

            Louis laughed, but thinking he was serious given his earlier episode, Liam followed Zayn as he went to the bathroom. He skipped the toilet, though, and went straight to the sink, where he washed his arms and hands twice and then splashed water onto his face. It was only when he finished that he seemed to notice Liam in the room with him, and he noticeably startled.

            “Jesus,” he sighed.

            “Sorry,” Liam said. “I thought you were going to get sick again.”

            “No, but even if I was, I’m sure that’s not a show you want to see, unless you have a kink I’m unaware of.”

            “No,” Liam told the other with a laugh, “but I’ve seen it before and I would rather be there than you suffer alone.”

            “Aren’t you a doll?”

            Liam knew the question was rhetorical so instead of answering, he asked his own question.

            “What’s causing the dirt this time?”

            “Huh?”

            “You were scrubbing at your hands and arms with a vengeance. What’s making you feel so dirty?”

            “I just got offstage and am covered in sweat. I _am_ dirty,” Zayn pointed out. “I’m going to go to the bus and shower as soon as Louis and Harry sit back down so I might miss some of your show, but I’ll be back.”

            “No worries,” Liam assured him. Before anything else was said, the bathroom door was opened and Martin entered, quickly looking back and forth between Zayn and Liam.

            “Can we help you?” Zayn asked with all the attitude of a teenage girl in a teen flick.

            “They’re looking for Liam,” Martin said.

            “Alright. That’s all you needed to say, then.”

            Taking Liam’s hand, Zayn led him out of the bathroom. After giving him a small smile, he let go and headed back to his friends. Liam almost followed, but then realized he should probably find out who was looking for him. After asking everyone he could think of, they all claimed no one had asked for him at all.

            After the show, Liam’s parents and siblings came backstage one last time to say goodbye. The boys would be leaving on their tour buses that night, so they wouldn’t have a chance to go out, but Liam assured him he would see them soon. As always, his mom nearly cried while saying her goodbyes, but the rest had learned to ignore it by now, as mentioning her mood would only cause her to become more upset. They tried to find Zayn to say goodbye, but when he couldn’t be found, Liam figured he must be on his bus visiting with Louis and Harry for a few more minutes and assured his family he would give him their love.

            Liam showered once he was on the bus and was mentally prepared to have a glass of wine and read until he fell asleep but when he exited the bathroom in his towel, Zayn was sitting on his bed.

            “Oh. Hey,” Liam said, making his way to his luggage and rummaging around for his nightclothes.

            “Hey,” Zayn said.

            “You disappeared after the show. My parents wanted to make sure I told you goodbye for them and that you did great tonight.”

            “Oh. Tell them thank you next time you talk to them.”

            “I will.”

            Standing with the baggy t-shirt and joggers he’d chosen for bed, Liam asked, “Mind if I change?”

            “Not at all. Mind if I look?”

            Liam smiled, though he hated how quickly Zayn could raise his body temperature, even after all this time.

            “Not at all,” he said.

            Zayn _did_ watch, as if Liam was purposely putting on a private show for him. Liam supposed he was, because he found himself changing slower and more gracefully than usual, like he wanted Zayn to like what he saw.

            He _did_ want that, but Liam was not ready to admit it to himself.

            Zayn made room for Liam to lay on the bed, and then, with a smirk, Zayn swung one leg over Liam’s waist and straddled him.

            “Thanks for letting me watch,” he said softly.

            “Any time,” Liam said, because it was suddenly hard to form a whole sentence.

            Leaning forward, Zayn put his forehead against Liam’s and closed his eyes. He opened them after only a couple short seconds and smiled when he saw Liam looking at him.

            “I miss you,” he said, gently biting Liam’s bottom lip. Liam’s body reacted quickly.

            “Zayn, we can’t,” Liam said regretfully; his voice weak even to his own ears.

            “Why not?” Zayn asked, kissing underneath Liam’s mouth and then looking into the other’s eyes with his own wide, beautiful ones.

            “We’re not together.”

            “We weren’t together before and we did all kinds of things.”

            “I know, but we talked about this.”

            “You can’t possibly still want to be with me,” Zayn said, sitting up, but rubbing Liam’s arms.

            “How would you know?” Liam asked.

            “You shouldn’t want to be with me.”

            “That’s what you always say, but you’ve never given me a reason to believe it.”

            “I’ve done bad things, Li. I’m gross. I’m dirty.”

            “Did you kill someone?”

            The question took Zayn by surprise and he laughed.

            “No,” he said.

            “Then I think we can work through whatever ‘bad’ thing you did.”

            “There are plenty of awful acts besides murder,” Zayn pointed out.

            “Well, you’ve never had a boyfriend or a real girlfriend, so you can’t have cheated on anyone. Did you steal something?”

            “No.”

            “Key someone’s car?”

            “No.”

            “ _Attempt_ to kill someone?”

            “No!”

            “Hurt an animal?”

            “Of course not.”

            “Well, I’m running out of things that could potentially change my mind about you, Z. Care to help me out?”

            “No. Just trust me.”

            Liam sighed, but the sigh turned to a moan when Zayn massaged behind his ears and began sucking a part of his neck. He licked the wound, and then kissed Liam’s neck and face until he reached his lips. Liam’s eyes closed as soon as their lips touched, and part of him wanted to cry because he’d missed this so badly. He had half a mind to go along with Zayn’s ideas, but he couldn’t. It had taken months for Zayn’s face and body to not be the focus of his dreams, and even longer for Liam’s chest to stop hurting when he saw the man or even heard his name. If they did this, Liam would be back at square one and Zayn would go about his life, unchanged.

            “No,” Liam said softly, gently laying Zayn beside of him. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

            Liam thought Zayn would understand. Though it had been rare, sometimes one of them just wouldn’t be in the mood for sexual affection even when they were messing around, and the other always respected that. There wasn’t a reason this should be different, Liam thought. He could say no, Zayn should say okay, and they could still cuddle until they fell asleep, but that wasn’t what happened at all.

            With a loud, annoyed, sigh, Zayn got off the bed and fixed his shirt, which had ridden up.

            “Z, come on; don’t be like that,” Liam asked. In a monotone voice, Zayn said,

            “I knew I should have gone after the guy that was in the audience tonight.”

            Without warning, it felt as if a cement truck had fallen onto Liam’s chest. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes, and his voice was anything but steady as he sat up and asked,

            “Do you like to hurt me?!”

            Zayn saw his hurt-he had to have-but he rolled his eyes as if Liam were a ridiculous child.

            “Good night, Liam.”

            The other man turned to leave, but Liam wasn’t quite done with him yet.

            “I know you’re hurting Zayn,” he said, gasping through his tears, “but that doesn’t give you a right to hurt the ones who are trying to help you.”

            “I didn’t ask for your help, Liam!” Zayn said, turning around so sharply that it took Liam by surprise. “I thought you asked me to come on tour with you because we’re friends and you wanted to spend the time together, but if all you wanted was the credit of being the one to save a miserable, gay pop star from himself, then fuck you! I’ll see what Martin can do about getting me out of my contract tomorrow.”

            “No!” Liam cried. He rubbed furiously at his eyes, angrier at himself than Zayn for not being able to hold himself together any better than this. “That’s not what I meant!”

            “I’m pretty sure it was.”

            “Why do you always act like you know my thoughts and feelings better than I do?!”

            “Because you live to make people happy, Liam, and I think you lie to yourself in order to do it. Make yourself happy for once, yeah?”

            “What the hell are you even talking about? I’m fine! You shouldn’t be giving anyone advice on how to be happy.”

            “Sometimes I think you like that I’m sad,” Zayn accused, his eyes and voice cold; unlike Liam had ever experienced from Zayn. “It’s probably poetic to you or something. You don’t want to be with me, you just want to ‘fix’ me and let the whole world know.”

            “How would the world know, Zayn?” Liam asked. He had better control over his voice now, but the tears were still falling. “You won’t even tell anyone about us.”

            “I didn’t tell the world a lot of things that they somehow know.”

            “And I’m sorry that happened to you, but I didn’t do that, and I would hope by now that you know I wouldn’t! If you don’t trust me, why were you ever with me at all?”

            Liam’s mom had always told him that if he didn’t want an answer to something, don’t ask it. Typically, Liam abided by that rule, but he thought he’d known the answer to this. He assumed Zayn would say something along the lines of, ‘I do trust you,’ or ‘Because I liked you,’ or at least, ‘We had a great time together,’ but he didn’t.

            “I don’t know,” Zayn replied, and it seemed another cement truck fell out of the sky. Liam wouldn’t have been able to say anything back to Zayn even if he’d wanted to, and he watched Zayn walk out while he tried to remember how to breathe properly.

            If Liam could assure no one would hear him, he would have put the pillow over his face and screamed. The bus started to move, though, which meant he wasn’t alone, and a scream would cause a panic that he wasn’t ready to explain. Instead, Liam simply punched his pillow a few times and then pulled out his notebook. It was difficult to write something he would be able to read later, since his tears kept soaking the page, but it didn’t really matter if he would be able to use the words he was writing later or not. He hadn’t known that there was anything left of him that Zayn could break, but there was, and, again, Liam was alone and trying to pick up the pieces.

           

           

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that roller coaster! :p


	10. Fingers

            _Liam didn’t kiss Zayn before he left. Even though he hugged him and assured him-again-that they were fine, Zayn didn’t feel as if they were. Why hadn’t he just let Liam do as he wished with him? Anyone would be lucky to have Liam want them in the way he’d wanted Zayn that night, but Zayn pushed him away like an idiot. He liked Liam quite a bit, so he didn’t know what the problem was._

_Maybe that **was** the problem, Zayn realized when he further contemplated the topic. He liked Liam and being intimate would either make him like him more or the opposite; it could make him hate him. Zayn didn’t want either of those things because he still wanted Liam in his life, but far enough away so that Liam wouldn’t be tainted by Zayn’s filth._

_**You act like sex is a big deal, Zayn,** an echoed voice inside Zayn spoke, and he shook his head, but it wouldn’t go away. **Just close your eyes, it will be over soon.**_

_By the time he arrived back at his parents, it was after one in the morning, so Zayn figured his family would be in bed or at least locked away in their rooms, shutting down for the night, and since fighting against his tears proved pointless, Zayn focused on breathing evenly so that he at least wouldn’t be heard._

_The living room light was on when he walked into the house, but his family usually left that one or the kitchen light on for him if they knew he would be back late. Zayn was taken by surprise when he rounded the corner and saw his older sister laying on the couch with a book propped on her legs. Quickly, Zayn turned around and was headed to the kitchen when she said,_

_“Hey, Z.”_

_“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice even, but he didn’t turn around. He went to the kitchen and filled a glass of water, using the time when the faucet was on to let out a few shaky breaths and soft cries. Before turning off the water, he splashed his face, hoping that would hide some of the evidence that he was crying._

_“Zayn?”_

_Doniya was behind him, and Zayn took a few gulps of his water before saying,_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Are you okay?”_

_“Yeah. Why?”_

_Hoping he looked as normal as he was managing to sound, Zayn turned around, but his sister’s forehead creased in concern and her eyebrows pulled together as she studied the man._

_“I don’t think you are,” she said._

_“I’m fine,” Zayn insisted._

_“So why are your eyes red?”_

_“I’m stoned.”_

_The lie came out of Zayn’s mouth as soon as it popped into his head; before he had a chance to think about it. Doniya raised her brows, but then she laughed a bit too loud and clamped her hands over her mouth._

_“Oh, baby brother,” she said. “I love you.”_

_The woman surprised Zayn yet again by walking over to him and pulling him into a hug. It was only awkward for a moment, and then Zayn wrapped his arms around her as well._

_“Love you too,” he said. Horrifyingly, his voice cracked on the last word and that seemed to trigger the waterfall behind his eyes. Doniya tightened her hold on him, sighing softly as she rubbed his back._

_“You didn’t have to lie to me, Zaynie,” she said gently._

_“I’m okay,” Zayn still tried to insist, but of course, his sister wasn’t having any of it._

_“I don’t know if I can help because I’ve no idea what’s wrong, but even though this sounds cheesy, it’s true; it’s amazing what talking about something can do for a person.”_

_“I don’t know what to say,” Zayn said._

_“Whatever is on your mind.”_

_Zayn sighed, and part of him wanted to break the hug because he thought it had probably gone on for a bit too long, but he knew it would be easier to talk to her if she couldn’t see his face, so he held on tight like a stupid, scared child and said,_

_“There’s this b-girl…this beautiful girl and I really like her but…”_

_**But what, Zayn?** The man asked himself. He couldn’t tell his sister the truth; there were too many facets to it that would give away too much. Even though he was living a lie with most of the world, including his family, he refrained from directly lying about anything, settling instead on telling half-truths or simply shutting them out from certain parts of his life. Now, though, it was life or death, in a way, and Zayn knew he was going to have to lie so that he wouldn’t lose everything._

_“But…?” Doniya prodded as Zayn was trying to get his thoughts together._

_“I thought she liked me too, but she didn’t. She just wanted gifts and money and fifteen minutes of fame.”_

_“Aw, Z.”_

_Doniya held her younger brother for a few more moments, then gently pulled away, kissing his wet cheek as she did so. With a sympathetic smile, she said,_

_“That girl isn’t worth your time or tears, but I know that isn’t what you want to hear. The first heartbreak sucks, little brother, but there will be other girls who care about real things; not materialistic nonsense. And even if you don’t feel like you will ever like someone the way you do her, you will. No love, or crush, or whatever it is, is ever the same, but you’ll see one day that there is better out there and you’ll all but forget this bitch existed.”_

_“Damn; cold,” Zayn laughed, wiping his eyes, and his sister smiled._

_“I’m always going to tell you the truth if you ask for it, and even if you don’t,” the woman said. Somehow, Zayn laughed again, and strangely, he found that he was feeling better just by talking, even if he hadn’t told her the truth. He’d taken on a new character, he realized; a straight character whose love problems were as simple as Doniya made them seem. Zayn had played that character many times. He always got a happy ending, at least._

_“How are you such a heartbreak expert?” Zayn asked. “Have you had your heart broken before?”_

_“Well, yeah, of course,” she answered, like it was just part of life. Zayn guessed it was, for most people, but none of his sisters should ever have to go through it. Any guy would be lucky to have them._

_If only Liam were bi, Zayn thought. He was probably the only man alive that would deserve his sister anyway._

_“Do you want me to beat someone up, or whatever brothers are supposed to do?” Zayn asked, and it was Doniya’s turn to laugh._

_“No,” she said. “I’m over it.”_

_“How did you get over it?”_

_“I cried for a couple days, then I became numb while listening to sad songs about heartbreak, then I started running while listening to angry songs about keying a guy’s car or whatever, and then I was just…okay.”_

_“Just like magic,” Zayn teased._

_“You’ve found out my secret,” Doniya said, and winked. Zayn smiled, then gave another sigh while he rubbed his eyes._

_“I’ll be okay, sis. Thanks. I think I just need to go to sleep right now and not think about anything for a while.”_

_“Of course. Seriously though, if you ever want to talk…you know.”_

_“Yeah, I know. I’ll come get you. Thanks.”_

_After Zayn put his glass in the dish washer, he and Doniya turned off the downstairs lights and walked upstairs together. They whispered goodnight before going into their respective rooms, and Zayn surprised himself by quickly falling asleep._

_Liam didn’t text or call Zayn the next day, and Zayn guessed he shouldn’t be hurt since he wasn’t making an attempt to contact the other man either, but it still didn’t feel great. Doniya offered her ear again, but understood when Zayn said he just needed time to think, though in actuality he wished he could stop thinking and checking his phone._

_Two days after the incident, Zayn was eating dinner with his family when his phone started vibrating on his lap. When he saw Liam’s name reflected up at him, he nearly knocked his plate onto the floor in his haste to answer._

_“Easy,” Zayn’s dad said._

_“Sorry,” Zayn, already halfway out of the room, called over his shoulder. He ran up the stairs, skipping every other step, and only answered once he was in his bedroom with the door shut._

_“Hello?” he asked, trying his best to breathe normally. Maybe he should take his sister’s advice and start running, whether or not his heart was broken._

_“Hey! What’s up?” Liam asked, like nothing at all had happened between them. For the time being, Zayn decided to go along with it._

_“Just finished eating dinner,” Zayn said. “You?”_

_“Not much, not much…Hey, I have a quick question.”_

_“What?” Zayn asked, feeling afraid for some reason._

_“Do you like basketball?”_

_“What?” Zayn asked, laughing even though it wasn’t a funny or unusual question. It was a relieved laugh, as he’d expected Liam’s question to be much more sinister or personal._

_“Do you like basketball?” Liam asked again, seeming to think Zayn simply hadn’t heard him. He must have heard him laugh though, because he said, “Sorry, are you busy? You can call me back later if you want.”_

_“No, no. It’s okay. I’m not busy,” Zayn said. “Basketball, right…Um…it’s okay, I guess.”_

_“I’m going to assume that’s a hard no.”_

_“It’s a soft no,” Zayn said. “Why do you ask?”_

_“Nicola bought tickets for her boyfriend for his birthday, but they just broke up, so she gave them to me. There are four tickets, actually, because a couple of her boyfriend’s friends were supposed to go too, but I was just wondering if you want one of them?”_

_“I don’t know much about basketball,” Zayn admitted, “but yeah, I’ll go if you want me to.”_

_“No, I don’t want you to, I just thought I would ask anyway,” Liam said with a laugh. Before Zayn could reply, he added, “Of course I want you to. You’re the first person I called.”_

_It shouldn’t have meant so much to Zayn, but he couldn’t help but to smile._

_“Yeah, I’ll come,” he said. “When is it?”_

_“Tomorrow.”_

_“Oh, wow.”_

_“Yeah, I know it’s last minute. Do you already have plans?”_

_“No. No plans. I’ll be there.”_

_“Cool! How about I pick you up around four so we can grab something to eat first?”_

_“Um, you can drive there if you want, but is it okay if I meet you at your place?” Zayn asked._

_“Yeah, that’s perfect,” Liam said. “Four o’ clock, then?”_

_“Okay, yeah. See you then.”_

_“Aces. See ya, Z.”_

_A few minutes after hanging up, there was a knock on Zayn’s bedroom door and he answered it to see Doniya staring sternly down the bridge of her nose at him._

_“That wasn’t her, was it?” she asked._

_“No,” Zayn said, but she didn’t look as if she believed him._

_Since all of Liam’s friends had work or prior engagements to attend to, the pair took Louis along. The fourth ticket was left unused, but Nicola didn’t care as long as none of her ex’s ‘people’ got to use it._

_Louis was planning to simply meet Liam and Zayn at the game, so Zayn arrived solo at Liam’s house. As soon as he’d put his car in park, his friend came quickly from the flat and smiled at Zayn as the singer got out of his car._

_“Just thought I’d save you from having to come in and face Ruth again,” Liam joked. Zayn smiled and met Liam by his car. Liam had to lean across the passenger side to unlock the door for Zayn, but assured Zayn that it was safe and reliable to drive._

_“My single comes out next weekend,” Liam said. “Maybe I’ll get enough to be able to fix at least some of the problems.”_

_“Or you could wait until your album comes out and buy a new car,” Zayn suggested. Liam turned pink, shaking his head._

_“I don’t know about all that,” he said._

_Liam drove a couple minutes down the road before pulling over and putting his car in park._

_“Is everything okay?” Zayn asked. Liam didn’t answer right away. He scanned the area quickly a few times before looking at Zayn and smiling._

_“Yeah,” he finally answered. “Just wanted to make sure we were alone so I could do this.”_

_Liam took his seat belt off so that he could lean over and kiss Zayn’s lips. Zayn was smiling when they broke apart, before Liam even opened his eyes. When he did, the smile was returned, but Liam looked worried when he asked,_

_“Are we cool?”_

_“I’m cool if you’re cool,” Zayn told him._

_“I’m cool,” Liam said. “Cooler than cool.”_

_“Cool. Guess we’re cool then.”_

_“Cool.”_

_Zayn’s smile grew, as did Liam’s. After giving Zayn one more kiss, Liam put his seatbelt back on, and put one hand on the wheel. The other, he used to hold Zayn’s hand, only letting go when they were around other cars, but grabbing it again whenever it was safe. Zayn didn’t know why something as simple as holding hands made him feel emotional, but luckily, he was able to push back the dramatics._

_They ate at a burger place of Zayn’s choosing and had a beer before heading to the game.  Louis was already there, so Liam parked beside him, and they all went in together. As they neared the line, Liam pulled out the tickets._

_“The only stipulation is that Nicola said we have to cheer for the yellow team because that’s the team her ex wanted to lose,” Liam told the group._

_“Yellow team it is,” Louis said. “I appreciate that you realized we wouldn’t know the team names, Liam.”_

_Liam smiled, but said,_

_“We can ditch the game and do something else if you guys aren’t into it.”_

_“I like sports,” Louis said. “I simply don’t pay much attention to anything besides football, but this will be fun. Thanks for inviting me, Liam.”_

_“You’re welcome,” Liam said as Zayn chimed in his thanks._

_It was stereotypical, but Zayn feared people may know that Louis wasn’t the only gay in the group simply by how little attention they were all giving the game. The beer helped with that, but the three spent most of the time talking, people watching, eating popcorn, laughing, and mocking the players when they made a noticeable mistake or got irrationally angry. For Nicola, they did cheer anytime they noticed the yellow team score, though._

_Once they were about five beers in, the kiss cam started, and Louis made an exaggerated gagging noise._

_“Gross. Why do straight couples think everyone wants to see them kissing?” he asked._

_“Wait, wait, wait!” Liam said excitedly. “There’s a gay couple getting engaged!”_

_Looking towards the screen, they saw what did appear to be a same sex couple. One was on his knee with a box in his hand, but the other was still sitting, his arms crossed as he stared straight ahead._

_“Oh, Curly’s hot,” Louis said of the one who was being proposed to. “I’d want to lock down that cock too.”_

_“Doesn’t look like he wants his cock locked down,” Liam said. A moment later, the curly haired guy on the screen started chugging his beer and refrained from making eye contact with his significant other, who was still kneeling beside of him, until he was finished, when he then threw the empty plastic cup at his head. There were noises of surprise and sympathy, and even a few cheers (the loudest coming from Louis) as the rejector stormed away and the camera quickly panned to another couple, who was too distracted by what had just happened to know that they were supposed to be kissing._

_“Never mind,” Liam said. “I guess we just saw a gay couple breaking up.”_

_“I think I’m in love,” Louis said. Zayn laughed, but Louis’s expression remained serious. He looked at Zayn and said,_

_“I’ll be back! I’m going to go meet Curly!”_

_“Louis! Wait-” Zayn tried, but Louis was already making his way down the bleachers._

_“He’s going to get himself beat up,” Zayn commented._

_“Should we go after him?” Liam asked._

_“Nah. He’s a grown ass man,” Zayn said. Besides, he didn’t expect Louis to even be able to find the guy, but less than ten minutes later, he was proven wrong when Louis came back to his seat, closely followed by the man  who had just thrown a cup at his would-be fiancé._

_“Hey, guys! Mind if Harry joins us?” Louis asked._

_“Erm…no, of course not,” Liam said, as Zayn barely kept himself from gaping._

_“Cool, thanks!” Louis said, sitting and allowing Harry the spot beside of him. “Harry, this is Liam and Zayn; Liam and Zayn…Harry.”_

_“Nice to meet you,” Zayn said, doing his best not to laugh now that the shock was over. Harry smiled as if he hadn’t just publicly humiliated some bloke on the kiss cam and leaned across Louis to shake Zayn’s hand._

_“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he said._

_After the game (during which the yellow team won and Liam sent a victory video of their championship to his sister), the four walked to a nearby pizza place to grab some food and finish sobering up. It turned out to only be Liam and Louis-the drivers-who focused on getting sober while Zayn and Harry treated themselves with another beer. They found out then that Harry’s recent ex deserved the humiliation he’d just been given, as Harry had found out he cheated a couple weeks ago. Stupidly, he said, he took him back, but told him they had to work slowly to get back to where they were before and proposing in front of an entire sports game audience didn’t seem slow to Harry. The rest had to agree._

_“Sorry he was a dumb ass,” Zayn slurred around his beer, and Harry laughed._

_“‘s okay,” he said. “I was starting to regret my decision to take him back anyway, so when he did that…A lot of feelings popped up all at once, you know? I don’t typically make it a point to throw trash at bigger trash.”_

_**I like him,** Louis said in a text message to Zayn, and with a smile, Zayn replied,_

_**He might be good for you, Lou.**_

**** _“Am I taking you home or back to my place?” Liam asked Zayn once they were in his car after leaving the restaurant. (Louis, naturally, offered to drop Harry off at home since he’d ridden to the game with his now-ex)._

_“Your place. My car’s there, remember?”_

_“Yes, but you’re not driving,” Liam said. Zayn laughed. Liam shook his head, but there was a noticeable smile on his face._

_“You’re something else, Malik.”_

_“Is that a good thing?”_

_“It’s great, actually.”_

_“Cool.”_

_“Cool, cool, cool.”_

_Zayn found that funnier than he probably should have, and even Liam couldn’t help but to laugh._

_“My place or yours?” he asked again._

_“Yours, please,” Zayn requested._

_“Yes, sir.”_

_Liam gave Zayn some of his own night clothes to change into while he went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, but Zayn was lying on top of the sheets in only his underwear when Liam came back to join him._

_“You aren’t cold?” he asked as he crawled over Zayn to lay next to him, putting himself under the covers._

_“I won’t be in a minute,” Zayn said, throwing himself across Liam’s waist to straddle him and run his hands up his shirt._

_“Whoa, hey, hold on,” Liam said, after physically startling. “What are you doing, doll?”_

_“I’m ready now,” Zayn said, kissing Liam’s lips before he moved down to his neck, as Liam so often did for him._

_“What changed over three days?” Liam asked._

_“I had time to think,” Zayn replied._

_“Are you acting on sober thoughts or drunk thoughts?”_

_“Both.”_

_Zayn started sucking Liam’s neck with about the same amount of force as Liam always did, and Liam gave a small moan, but then gently pushed Zayn back._

_“What?” Zayn asked._

_“Not tonight, Z,” Liam said, brushing a stray strand of hair from Zayn’s forehead and giving him a small smile. “I appreciate it, I do, but I’m not going to let you make this decision while you’re drunk.”_

_“I’m not **that** drunk!”_

_“You’re still intoxicated.”_

_“So are you!”_

_“Sh,” Liam hushed him quietly, and Zayn remembered that he did have family that was asleep somewhere in this house._

_“Sorry,” he whispered._

_“It’s okay,” Liam assured him, rubbing his arms gently. “I know I was drinking too, and I want us both to be sober and clear-headed the first time we get that intimate, if we choose to.”_

_“You’re still mad at me from the other day, aren’t you?” Zayn asked, biting his lip as he, again, felt tears welling up in his eyes. He wished he could have his tear ducts removed._

_“I was never mad at you,” Liam said. “I just don’t want there to be any miscommunication, mixed feelings or regrets, doll; that’s it.”_

_“Okay,” Zayn said. He got off Liam, changed into the nightclothes that were still sitting on the bed for him, and headed for the door._

_“Where are you going?” Liam asked in a yell-whisper._

_“Just to the bathroom,” Zayn said. “I’ll be back.”_

_Zayn had to bite down on his wrist so that he wouldn’t make an audible cry, and once he got to the bathroom, he wetted a washcloth and then bit down on that until the scream left his throat. The thing was, he wasn’t even upset with Liam; he was grateful. He’d been the one to put the images back into his own head of the first time he’d tried alcohol, when he’d been surrounded by older people who were like parent figures; people he’d thought he could trust. He remembered almost gagging when he’d tried the beer, so they’d given him wine instead. He hadn’t liked that much either, but Zayn didn’t want to seem weak in front of his role models, so he made himself drink it. After the second glass, it wasn’t so bad._

_He didn’t remember much after his fourth glass. The party left when Zayn started falling asleep on the couch. He remembered someone telling his current guardian to make sure he took care of Zayn, and the man had stroked Zayn’s cheek, saying, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him.”_

_Zayn’s memory always became fuzzy after that, and he didn’t know how much of it was due to the alcohol and how much was sheer will, but then he remembered waking up and being so sick. It was normal, he’d been told, to be sick, but Zayn’s heart was racing and everything hurt and none of it had felt normal. Zayn hadn’t known it then, but he would never feel ‘normal’ again._

Zayn was shaking so badly that he thought it was a miracle he even climbed onto the bus. What had he just done? _Why?_ The night hadn’t gone at all like he’d expected. He thought Liam would be ready to take their relationship back to whatever it used to be. He didn’t think he was going to be rejected and left alone another night.

            _You’re the one that walked out_ , Zayn reminded himself, but he shook his head, shutting out the voice that he didn’t want to hear.

            Tears were slowly falling down Zayn’s face as he opened his refrigerator in search of alcohol. Surely, there wouldn’t be any in there, as whoever stocked the bus had to know his struggles. He was delighted, though, when he saw a bottle of wine in the middle of the fridge, just waiting for him.

            Outwardly gasping and feeling better than he had in a while, Zayn reached in and pulled out the bottle. At first, he just stared. His mouth was watering, craving the sweetness, but something was stopping him from popping the cork and going to town.

            _You’re going to drink eventually,_ that voice said, creeping up on Zayn again. _Might as well make it tonight. You deserve it._

The bottle was getting cold, so Zayn set it on the counter. He opened a drawer in search of a corkscrew, but closed it again before glancing inside to see if he’d found one. More than likely, he _would_ drink again. He wouldn’t let himself get like he did before, but he wanted to go out with friends and have a drink every once in a while. He wanted to be able to properly toast Louis and Harry at their wedding. So why didn’t he just start tonight?

            Because, Zayn realized, he wanted to be able to have a drink on his own terms. He didn’t want _him_ to be the reason. What he’d told Niall was true; the memories never went away, no matter how drunk or high he was, so all drinking the wine would do is let Martin win again. Zayn would be the one to suffer the consequences; not anyone else.

            Zayn’s thoughts were solidified when he saw the brand of wine, and he gasped again. Memories flashed through his head and Zayn quickly put the bottle back, slamming the door of the fridge shut, and also imagining that he’d closed to the door to those memories he didn’t want. The door wasn’t locked. Eventually it would open and they would creep in again, but it worked for the time being.

            With a sigh, Zayn realized that the only chance he possibly had to feel better about anything was to apologize to Liam. The bus started moving, preventing him from going out, so Zayn supposed a call would have to do. Only then did he realize he’d left his phone on Liam’s bus.

            “Great,” he whispered to himself, and threw his body onto the couch. He only stayed there a moment, though, and then he found his luggage with his unused pills. They hadn’t seemed to help much, but if Zayn wanted to make his apology sincere, he had to show that he was at least trying. He took the recommended amount and sat on his bed, waiting to feel different.

            It seemed that was the story of his life.

            Finally, the buses stopped for gas and Zayn put on a hoodie and sunglasses, then sneaked onto Liam’s bus. Peeking into the bedroom area, Zayn saw the other man asleep with his notebook held to his chest. At the foot of the bed was Zayn’s phone, so he tiptoed as quietly as he could to retrieve it. When he turned, his step was interrupted by Liam’s discarded shoes and he cursed as he failed to catch his balance, falling to the floor. Liam screamed as he woke up, chucking his notebook at the perceived danger.

            “Ow,” Zayn said when the notebook hit his face. “Sorry, just me.”

            “For fuck’s sake!” Liam exclaimed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “You really hate me, don’t you? Tried to give me a proper heart attack in my bed!”

            “Yep, that was totally the goal,” Zayn said, standing up and handing Liam’s notebook back to him. Liam narrowed his eyes at the other man, and Zayn knew the situation wasn’t funny, but a sleepy Liam with bed head and puffy eyes was hardly an intimidating sight, so he chuckled.

            “Someone’s grumpy,” he commented.

            “You should talk,” Liam said.

            “I know I’m always grumpy,” Zayn admitted.

            “Not always,” Liam said, “but when you are, oh buddy…”

            Zayn laughed again and almost sat on Liam’s bed, but thought it might be too soon.

            “We’re stopped at a gas station if you need anything,” Zayn informed the other, who mumbled something incoherent before putting on his shoes and marching off the bus. Zayn debated whether he should go back to his own, as Liam didn’t seem in the mood to deal with him, but he wanted to apologize first. Liam could curse him out, tell him to leave, and not accept his apology, but at least Zayn would have tried.

Feeling borderline fatigued, as he hadn’t been asleep since being woken up prematurely the previous morning, Zayn took a seat on the couch as he waited. Liam climbed back onto the bus a few minutes later with two large cups in hand.

“Milkshake?” he said, offering one of the cups to Zayn.

            “Sure, thanks.”

            After taking the first drink, Zayn noted that the flavor was his favorite. Of course it was.  He sighed, even angrier at himself for treating Liam so badly when Liam was so amazing to him.

            “I am sorry, Li.”

            “Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

            Liam didn’t sound angry or chastising; just honestly curious. Zayn nodded, swallowing a gulp of his milkshake and then said,

            “Yeah. For making it seem that you were just like any other random bloke I could fuck and forget, for not respecting your wishes and boundaries when you’ve always respected mine, for accusing you of liking my pain when I can see that it hurts you too, for throwing a temper tantrum and saying I was going to leave the tour, for making it seem like I know your thoughts and feelings better than you do and for leaving you alone when you were crying tears that I caused.”

            Liam nodded, lost in thought as he worked on his milkshake.

            “Sounds thorough,” he finally said.

            “It’s just…I’m not trying to make excuses because I was way out of line, but I’ll try to explain. I’ve been off my medication for a while and I thought I was fine-or as fine as could be-but today, or yesterday, rather, was a really shit day and I guess I couldn’t handle it after all.”

            “Why was it a shit day?” Liam asked. Typically, Zayn would shrug it off and say something along the lines of ‘it just was,’ but he owed Liam the truth, no matter how selfish it made him sound.

            “Because, well…I’m happy for you and Louis, I truly am, but seeing you with your family and then hearing that Louis’s engagement kind of…set me off, I guess. It’s purely jealousy, and it’s wrong, but all I could think about was that I don’t have a family that wants to be in my life anymore and I’ll never have what Louis has because I won’t let myself.”

            Liam gave a couple subtle nods, took another drink from his cup, and then said,

            “Thank you for telling me. That makes sense and I never thought about what seeing my family might do to you, so I’m sorry.”

            “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Liam. I like your family and I’m glad you have them. It just brought my own issues to the surface is all.”

            “I can understand that,” Liam said. “I’m glad, though, that you realize you _could_ have what Louis has, if you let yourself. Maybe it would be worth making some sacrifices after all, yeah?”

            “Well, it’s not like I have much to lose at this point,” Zayn said. “I just don’t think I should be in any type of romantic relationship, you know? I’m clearly fucked up and no one deserves to go through that.”

            “Everyone’s fucked up, Zayn. There isn’t a single person alive that doesn’t have some type of demon. Some of those demons are darker than others, but still; everyone is haunted by something. Being a human is hard and having a relationship is hard too, but, at least in my opinion, being alone, or at least feeling like you’re alone, is harder.”

            “You don’t have to be in a relationship to not be alone,” Zayn pointed out.

            “That’s true,” Liam agreed. “But if it’s something you think you want, then it can still feel that way sometimes.”

            “Do you feel alone?” Zayn asked.

            “Sometimes. I know I’m not because I have friends and I’m lucky enough to have a great family, which I clearly take for granted sometimes, but those are different types of connections. I want a deeper connection with someone, and until I have that, I guess there will always be a part of me that feels lonely.”

            “I don’t want that for you,” Zayn said. “I don’t want you to feel lonely, but I don’t think that would change if you were with me. “

            “Why do you say that?”

            “Because there are parts of me that are shut down. There are areas of myself I can’t get into, let alone someone else.”

            “Don’t I know it,” Liam said with a laugh. “Doesn’t it get exhausting building those walls up day after day?”

            “Well, I probably wouldn’t have to keep building them if _someone_ didn’t try to keep knocking them down.”

            Liam laughed again and even Zayn managed to smile.

            “Touché,” Liam said. “If only I had a bulldozer.”

            “They’re bulldozer-proof,” Zayn claimed.

            “We’ll see about that.”

            Liam winked and pulled Zayn closer so that their knees were touching.

            “I really am sorry,” Zayn said again.

            “I know you are,” Liam assured him.

            “You’ve forgiven me way too easily, Li. You’re not even going to make me work for it?”

            “Why? That would just make things harder on us both. You’ve got safety walls and when someone threatens to knock them down, you get defensive and lash out. It’s basic human survival. I just wish I knew exactly what those walls were protecting you from because love isn’t a bad thing, Zaynie.”

            “Maybe I’m not trying to protect myself. Maybe I’m protecting others from me.”

            “If that’s the case, I think you should let others decide if they need to be protected.”

            “Martin wants to marry me.”

            Liam choked on his milkshake, and even though the thought of marrying Martin was horrifying, Zayn couldn’t help but to smile.

            “So…are you going to, um…are you going to marry him?”

            “Can I be brutally honest?”

            “Please. That’s what I’ve been waiting for the whole time I’ve known you.”

            Zayn nodded; took a sip of his milkshake.

            “I would rather chop off my entire penis and feed it to wild animals than marry Martin.”

            Liam snorted and when he opened his mouth to reply, he couldn’t stop laughing. After a few attempts, he finally said,

            “Is that because you’re anti-love or anti-Martin?”

            “Anti-Martin,” Zayn replied.

            “So the entire penis, huh? Not just the tip.”

            “Nope. The _entire_ penis. I would rather sever my arm and let someone beat me with it.”

            “Jesus.”

            “I would rather pour acid into my eyeballs and sew my own mouth shut.”

            “Hey, Zayn? You ever think of at least putting some windows on those walls? It seems like a dark, dark place in there.”

            Zayn laughed and Liam shook his head but was smiling.

            “Can’t really blame the guy for being in love with you, though.”

            “What’s that say about me, that he’s been the only one in love with me?”

            “The only one in love with you, eh?” Liam asked, and before Zayn could reply, he said, with all the love in the world, “You’re a proper idiot, you know that?”

            “I had a sneaking suspicion, but at least I’m cute, right?”

            “Mhm. That is one thing you definitely are.”

            Zayn smiled, but it was interrupted by a yawn. Liam yawned too, rubbing his hands over his face as if the exhaustion had just struck him.

            “I need to go back to bed,” he said.

            “I need to go to bed,” Zayn agreed.

            “You haven’t been to sleep yet?” Liam asked. Zayn shook his head.

            “Let’s go, then,” Liam said, standing and patting Zayn’s leg. “Now that we’ve both confirmed we don’t like to be alone, it only makes sense to share a bed.”

            Zayn took the hand Liam was offering and the other man pulled him to his feet. Zayn was almost surprised he didn’t have to carry him to bed, and he nearly collapsed down onto the mattress after their seemingly long trek.

            Liam yawned again and then sighed as he scooted closer to Zayn and put one arm over him, lacing their fingers together again.

            “Night, Z,” he said.

            “Night, Li. Thank you.”

            Zayn must have gone into a deep sleep because when he woke up, he had a hard time remembering where he was or what day it was. Sunlight was pouring into the stationary bus and Liam was nowhere in sight.

            With a yawn, Zayn stretched his arms out in front of him and stood up. His legs were still weak, but he felt immensely better than the night before.

            Zayn knocked on the door to the bus’s toilet, but there was no answer, so he let himself in to take care of business and rinse his face off. He had half a mind to go back to bed once he was through, but then he heard Liam laugh from outside and supposed he should see what was going on.

            “Oh,” Liam said in surprise when he and Zayn nearly ran into each other; Liam while he was climbing back on the bus and Zayn when he was headed off. “Good morning!”

            “Is it morning?” Zayn asked.

            “It’s about eleven fifty, so technically, yeah.”          

            “Hey, you didn’t wake me up this time!”

            “You were next to me, so I knew you were breathing.”

            “If that’s what it takes for you to not pound down my door while I’m peacefully snoozing, we might have to share a bed more often.”

            “I’m down for that,” Liam said with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

            “Fine,” Zayn said.

            “Good,” Liam said. “Kiki and I are about to grab some lunch and go look for some Halloween costumes if you want to come.”

            “Do I have time to shower?” Zayn asked.

            “Of course.”

            As quickly as he could, Zayn went to his hotel room, showered, and changed clothes. Hoping Liam and Kiki wouldn’t get aggravated and leave without him, Zayn also did his hair; something that he hadn’t done himself for a while. Liam sent Zayn a text giving him his room number but assured him he could take his time. Zayn replied saying that he was almost ready and within five minutes was knocking on Liam’s door.

            “Hey!” Liam greeted. “You look cute.”

            “Thanks,” Zayn replied. From inside the room, Kiki asked,

            “Doesn’t he _always_ look cute, Liam?”

            “Fair point,” Liam said with a smile. “Do you want to come in or are you ready to go?”

            “I’m ready to go.”

            The three (plus their security guards) went to a café down the street from their hotel for lunch. Zayn got a sandwich and a coffee; the sandwich he had eaten in record time. Of course, besides the milkshake Liam had bought him, Zayn hadn’t had anything to eat since before their jog yesterday. He made a mental note to remember dinner that night.

            Once they had finished eating, the singers were picked up by Liam’s driver and taken to the closest Halloween store.

            “I don’t have any idea what I should be this year,” Kiki said. “Should I be something sexy? Creepy? Offensive?”

            “Maybe not offensive,” Liam suggested. “You don’t want your career halted because of a stupid Halloween costume.”

            “You’re right,” the woman said. “I guess my pregnant nun days are over.”

            “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Zayn said. “I’m sure the pictures are somewhere, just waiting to pop up.”

            “My girlfriend swears they’re erased from the face of the Earth, but with social media, that’s doubtful,” Kiki said.

            “Girlfriend huh?” Zayn asked, though he didn’t know why he was surprised. As a gay man, he shouldn’t be part of the heteronormative thought that straight was the default, but he found himself guilty of it more often than not.

            “Yep. Girlfriend,” Kiki confirmed with a smile.

            “None of us are straight!” Liam said, lowering his voice a bit. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

            “You two just need to come out now and we can rename this tour The Gay Parade or something,” Zayn teased. The others laughed.

            “I’m working on it,” Kiki said.

            “Me too,” Liam said. “Give us a couple years and we can go on a reunion tour and call it that or something.”

            “The Three Gaymigos,” Kiki suggested. Zayn had chosen a wrong time to take a sip of his drink and Liam rubbed his back, chuckling as he choked on coffee.

            “I like that one,” Zayn said when he could properly breathe and speak again.

            “Thank you,” Kiki replied, rightfully proud of herself.

            The trio scoured the shop, looking for a costume. They decided they all needed to dress up as something that required a mask to better disguise themselves if they decided to go out on Halloween night. Liam, being the king of selfies, made sure to take one of all of them, though not in the masks they chose. Kiki was wearing Scream, Liam was It, and Zayn was a werewolf, and Liam’s guard told them they’d never looked sexier.

            “Are you captioning it ‘the three gaymigos?’” Kiki asked as Liam was uploading the photo, causing Zayn to have another laughing fit.

            “That would be quite the way to come out,” Liam said with a smile on his face.

            After purchasing their costumes, Liam’s driver took them back to the hotel so they could grab the things they needed for that night and then he took them to the arena. On the way, Liam received a notification on his phone that made his brows crease together and a small frown form on his face.

            “Everything okay?” Zayn asked.

            “Yeah,” he said. “Just got a text from my ex saying he’s going to be at the show tonight and seeing if I want to meet up.”

            “Don’t do it,” Zayn said immediately.

            “Why not?” Liam asked. “I haven’t seen him in forever. There’s nothing wrong with saying hi.”

            “Just don’t take him back,” Kiki warned. “He’s only after your money and fame.”

            “I don’t know about that,” Liam said. “I won’t get back with him, though. I’ve been over him for quite some time.”

            “That’s always what people think until they see them in person.”

            Liam laughed, shaking his head.

            “Thanks, guys, but I’ll be okay.”

            Liam probably would be alright, Zayn thought, but he still wasn’t happy with this situation at all.

            “Don’t worry,” Kiki said later that evening, while Zayn was stabbing his pasta with a fork and Liam was off in the distance talking to his tall, buff, perfect lipped ex. “You’re cuter.”

            “No I’m not,” Zayn said, moving his gaze towards his plate as Liam looked over in his general direction.

            “You really are,” Kiki said. “Not that everything is all about looks, but his ex isn’t the one he’s kept me up talking about multiple times.”

            “Tour just started,” Zayn reminded the woman.

            “Yeah, but I’ve been hanging out with Liam since he vouched for me to join the tour. He was soooo excited when you decided to join because you’re so hot and your smile is so gorgeous, and you do this cute thing when you laugh where your nose crinkles up. Liam’s words, not mine, of course. Although you _do_ do that when you laugh and it is quite adorable.”

            “Thanks?” Zayn said, and Kiki laughed.

            “No problem,” she said. “Anyway, I don’t think you have to worry about his ex.”

            “Not like we’re together or anything,” Zayn said. “He can have anyone he wants.”

            “Is that true?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Oh. Well he wants you.”

            Glancing towards Liam, Kiki patted Zayn on the back and said,

            “Just warning you; they’re coming over here.”

            “Oh. Perfect.”

            “Hey, lovelies!” Liam greeted his friends as he sat at the table across from them. His ex took the place next to Liam. “This is Declan, and Declan, this is Zayn and Kiki.”

            “Hi, Declan,” Kiki said politely as Zayn nodded, having chosen an opportune time to shove noodles into his mouth.

            “Hi,” Liam’s ex replied, and then looked at Zayn. “Man, it’s so weird…Liam listened to your music all the time when he was a nobody and now you’re touring together!”

            “I wouldn’t say a nobody,” Zayn disagreed, his approval of Declan falling by ten points that he didn’t even know he’d had in the first place.

            “Well, no, but you know what I mean,” Declan said off-handedly. “It’s just…insane.”

            Looking at Liam, he said,

            “I’m proud of you, boo.”

            Zayn nearly saw white. Noticing danger, Kiki squeezed his knee; Zayn guessed as an attempt to keep his head in their world.

            “Thanks, Dec,” Liam said. “Anyway, now that I’ve introduced you to my favorite people, I’ll show you around.”

            Standing up, Liam smiled at his friends.

            “See you two later.”

            The group said their goodbyes, and even though Zayn had returned Declan’s sentiment of ‘it’s nice to meet you,’ he couldn’t help but to roll his eyes once his back was turned. From beside him, Kiki laughed.

            “Oh, Zayn,” she said.

            “Yes?”

            “Nothing, nothing.”

            Zayn took another bite, then scoffed. When Kiki looked at him curiously, he muttered,

            “ _Boo_ …Jesus.”

            Kiki laughed, needing a moment to compose herself. Once she succeeded, she said,

            “He was really trying hard, wasn’t he?”

            “I don’t see any chemistry there,” Zayn said.

            “None at all,” Kiki agreed.

            “Good,” Zayn said.

            “Fantastic,” Kiki corrected. “Ziam is alive and well.”

            “Ziam?”

            “Yeah. That’s the ship name your fans have decided for you online.”

            “Interesting.”

            “You know what Liam and Declan’s ship name would be?”

            “Tragic?”

            “That could work too,” Kiki said. “I was thinking Decam. You know, like deck-em.”

            When Zayn still looked confused, Kiki said,

            “Deck him…”

            “Don’t tempt me,” Zayn said.

            Zayn thought he performed exceptionally well that night, as if every perfect note lessened the chance that Liam would get back with Declan. The man had gone to his seat when Kiki went to perform, but not before he asked Liam if he wanted to grab some drinks after the show. Liam had told him it depended on how he felt, but that he would let him know. Then they exchanged their new numbers (Declan had apparently messaged Liam on Instagram earlier.) Part of Zayn wondered if this was Liam’s way of trying to hurt him since Zayn had made him cry the previous night. He realized that was the best-case scenario; the worst being that Liam may actually want the other man again.

            When Zayn finished with his set, he hurried backstage, ready for Liam’s typical after-show embrace, but Liam didn’t seem to notice that his portion of the show was over. He was too busy smiling at his phone as he texted someone. Once Zayn headed towards him, he glanced up and then slipped his phone into his back pocket, greeting his friend with a quick hug.

            “You did great,” he said.

            “Thanks,” Zayn commented lightly, doubting Liam had even seen much of the show. “Texting Declan?”

            “Yeah. He said you did phenomenal.”

            “Oh. Awesome.”

            Turning on his heel, Zayn headed to the bathroom.

            “Are you okay?” Liam asked, following behind his friend.

            “Yep. Perfect,” Zayn said.

            “You seem pissed…again,” Liam said.

            “That’s my nature, Liam. Haven’t you noticed?”

            “I’m becoming more aware, but, hey, stop.”

            Liam gently grabbed Zayn’s arm and turned him around.    

            “What?” Zayn sighed.

            “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous,” Liam commented.

            “Do you know better?” Zayn asked. Liam’s forehead creased.

            “I’m not sure…,” he said.

            “Huh,” was Zayn’s only response, and he headed to the bathroom again.

            “You don’t get to do that, you know,” Liam said, continuing to follow the other man.

            “Do what?”

            “Be jealous.”

            “I’m not.”

            “Oh, okay. Cool. Do you want to go out with us tonight?”

            “You _are_ going out with him, then,” Zayn confirmed, turning around yet again to face Liam.

            “What’s it matter if you’re not jealous?” Liam asked.

            “I just think it would be a shit idea. He broke your heart.”

            “Yeah…yeah, I guess.”

            “You guess? Pretty much all of the songs you’d made when I first met you were about that doucheface and how he broke your heart.”

            “Doucheface. Interesting.”

            “But do what you want, Liam. It’s your life.”

            “Zayn,” Liam said as the other man spun the other direction.

            “What?” Zayn asked.

            “You don’t get to be jealous of someone else having me when you don’t want me.”

            “I’m not jealous,” Zayn said. “Declan can have you.”

            For a moment, Liam was silent. Part of Zayn wanted to turn around, but the bigger part wasn’t ready to see the hurt he knew he’d put in Liam’s eyes yet again.

            “You’re exhausting, Zayn,” Liam sighed, and he _did_ sound tired. Zayn squeezed his eyes shut, fighting against the moisture in them, and he took a few deep breaths before he trusted his voice enough to speak.

            “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I’m always saying shit I don’t mean. I just think you deserve better than both of us is all, Li. You deserve so much more.”

            Liam didn’t reply, even when Zayn gave a much too audible sniffle and wiped his eyes.

            “Li?” he asked, but when he turned around, he was talking to thin air.

            Zayn went back to the bus, not even sticking around to watch Liam’s portion of the show, and he was informed later by Kiki that he’d gone out with Declan after all. He wasn’t surprised, but it still hurt, and it was worse because he knew he’d been the one to push Liam to do it. Zayn assured Kiki he was okay, though, and once she was gone, he sat on his bunk, only a few stray tears escaping down his cheeks.

He’d told the truth before, when he’d said that Liam was too good for both him and his ex-boyfriend. Zayn remembered Liam talking that morning about how everyone had demons and thought Liam’s demon must be his shitty taste in men. If he was absolutely set on choosing to be with a selfish asshole, though, then Zayn figured he should maybe fight for his chance. Liam would see one day that he was better than Zayn and leave him, but that would be okay. At least it would be Liam hurting Zayn that time, and not vice versa. If Liam got back with Declan, or another ass hole of his choosing, Zayn wouldn’t be able to guarantee that Liam would get out without being torn apart, so if Liam was so determined to date a man that was bad for him, Zayn could at least do him this favor and hope he learned from his mistakes enough to better his choice next time.

            Liam didn’t answer when Zayn called him. Terrible images flashed through Zayn’s head of what the man could possibly be doing with Declan, but he squeezed his eyes shut, forcing them away, and focused on steadying his breathing while the lady on the voice mailbox instructed him on how to leave a message. After the beep, Zayn took a deep breath and started speaking.

            “Hey, Li, it’s me…Um…Listen, I’m sorry…again. I’m an ass hole, I know, and I say all this shit I don’t mean and you should really learn how to be pissed at me for longer than a couple hours, but anyway….I was just calling to tell you that I think I said those things earlier because you were right; I get defensive when people try to knock down my walls, and you get the worst of it because you’re the only one who comes close. You’re the window in my dark, dark home and I just don’t know what to do with the light you’re trying to let in, but…But maybe I’m willing to try. I _am_ jealous, Li, because I do want you. I think I always have, but I’m terrified that I’m not going to be enough to fill that lonely spot in your heart. I don’t want to keep going like we are now, though, Liam. I can’t take fighting with you and continuously hurting you. I want to do better. I want to try to be what you need, so if you can forgive me one more time…”

            Zayn trailed off, not knowing what to say. _If you can forgive me one more time…_ what? What would they be? What _could_ they be?

            The mailbox lady saved Zayn from stumbling for an ending by informing him that his time had run out and his message had been sent. The thought was terrifying, and Zayn felt as if he were going stir crazy because all he could do now was wait, just like he’d always left Liam waiting.

           

           


	11. There You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of the chapter is in Liam's POV this time :)

            _New Year’s Eve had always been Liam’s favorite holiday. He knew it was dumb. Time was only a social construction and the first day of the new year was only a day later than yesterday, but the holiday still felt magical to Liam. Everyone was full of hope and excitement, wondering what accomplishments they could be looking back on one year from now._

_Liam blamed his childlike dreams of New Year’s Eve as well as the few glasses of champagne he’d had to drink for acting out on fantasies he knew were just that. Still, as he dressed for the party before leaving his house, he felt in his bones that he would be coming back that night no longer a single man. This would be the night, he thought, that Zayn would allow him to call him his boyfriend. This was the night Liam would finally tell him that he loved him; that he was so in love with him he’d committed himself to the man without consciously doing so._

_Zayn was so gorgeous that night. He always was, but there was something different about him, Liam thought. He couldn’t place what that was. Zayn’s skin was always clear, his dark hair always healthy and shiny, his lips always absolutely kissable. But something about him looked different, and Liam thought it was simply because he was only a few hours away from calling Zayn his._

_Maybe he shouldn’t have asked right after they had sex, Liam later theorized. If he’d asked before, Zayn may have overlooked the fact that he had Liam on a strict ‘friends with benefits’ title and they could have made the best love they’d ever made afterward, once they were boyfriends. But Zayn looked and smelled so good, and Liam hadn’t seen him for a while, so his bodily needs took over._

_He tried not to cry in the bathroom after Zayn turned him down, and he mostly succeeded. It had been foolish to allow his dreams to feel possible when Zayn had told him multiple times that they would never be anything more than a couple of mates who happened to have really great sex. But couldn’t Zayn tell Liam loved him? He loved Zayn so hard that sometimes his chest hurt from trying to contain it, and Liam had thought maybe Zayn loved him too. He **saw** the adoring way he looked at him; felt the gentle way he touched him. Zayn talked to him in a voice he didn’t use with anyone else; a soft, sweet voice._

_**Stupid**. Liam must have wished so hard he convinced himself of things that simply weren’t true. _

_It was that night, as he rode silently beside Gianna in the cab, on their way to their respective homes, that Liam decided he couldn’t be with Zayn at all anymore if he couldn’t have him exclusively. Every time their bodies touched, Liam found something new to love about him, and each time he was left alone afterward, the emptiness screamed at him._

_Liam knew he couldn’t just quit Zayn cold turkey, though. He needed one more night with him; one that didn’t end as this one had. Pathetic or not (and it probably was) he needed to hold him one more time._

_**Sorry I made things awkward earlier,** Liam said through a text. **You know how I can get when I drink, haha.**_

**** _He probably shouldn’t type ‘haha’ when he had tears in his eyes, but he was going to have to pull himself together if he were to see Zayn again tonight. He’d cried in front of him before, but he wouldn’t again and certainly not over this._

_**It’s ok,** Zayn replied simply._

_**Do you want to come over, no strings attached? I know we’re not ever going to be anything real…I just want a cuddle buddy tonight.**_

**** _Zayn claimed he was too drunk to go out again, and Liam thought that was just an excuse because he hadn’t seemed overly intoxicated when they’d parted ways, but then Zayn told Liam he was welcome to go to his place. Liam did, and it was confirmed that Zayn actually was drunk. Liam thought it was probably wrong to hope Zayn had more to drink because he possibly regretted how their earlier conversation had ended. Maybe he would tell Liam he changed his mind and they could be together after all._

_He didn’t._

_When Liam walked into Zayn’s house, the other man was basically passed out on his couch. He woke when Liam lifted him, but felt like a rag doll, so Liam took him upstairs, laid him on his bed and undressed him. It hurt when he realized this would be the last time, and he hoped Zayn didn’t notice the way he savored the moment, trying to sear Zayn’s tan, thin, toned body into his mind, as if it wasn’t already._

_**Tell him now** , Liam said to himself. **If you don’t do it now you never will, and you’ll be stuck in this pattern that’s tearing you apart.**_

**** _“Zayn?” he finally managed to speak after he’d stripped down to his boxers and laid beside Zayn. He hadn’t been able to refrain from kissing the back of his perfect neck._

_“Yeah?”_

_“I still really want to be friends with you,” Liam said, tears welling in his eyes, but his voice somehow remaining steady. “You’ve helped me so much in my career and in my life in general…but I think we need to stop the sexual relations. It’s starting to mean different things to us, which isn’t your fault or mine. It is what it is, but I think we should stop now before anyone gets more hurt.”_

_“Yeah, sure, Liam,” Zayn said, as if this were no big deal. As if Liam couldn’t feel his heart crumbling. “Whatever needs to happen.”_

_“Thank you, and we can still be friends, right?”_

_Liam didn’t think he would be able to handle not having Zayn in his life at all, but luckily, Zayn said,_

_“Yeah…‘course.”_

_“Cool.”_

_It wasn’t cool at all, but Liam would pretend._

_“Thanks, Z.”_

_Liam snuggled in closer to Zayn, squeezing his eyes shut against the impending waterfall. As painful as everything was, Liam had to appreciate the beauty of this moment. He looked at his arm over Zayn’s darker one. He tattooed the feeling of their bodies curving together into his skin. He’d gotten so close to Zayn that his hair was tickling his nose, but he didn’t care. Liam loved this. He loved Zayn._

_Soon, after Zayn had fallen asleep and Liam was still awake, feeling as if he were bleeding internally, he decided that he didn’t love this anymore. He still loved Zayn and probably always would, but his skin didn’t feel soft and warm anymore. It felt sharp and cold, like being stabbed to death by a thousand icicles._

_Uncurling himself from around Zayn, Liam quietly got up and dressed himself, not removing his eyes form his sleeping former lover for most of the time. He sat on the edge of the bed as he put his shoes on, then gave a quiet sigh. Retrieving his phone from the nightstand, Liam took a picture of Zayn’s sleeping face and smiled._

_The night Zayn and Liam first had sex, they fell asleep together and Liam had later woken in the middle of the night, needing to use the restroom. Zayn had looked so cute, with his pursed lips and long eyelashes resting peacefully on his cheeks that he couldn’t help but to take a picture. When Zayn had found out, he’d told Liam he was a ‘creep,’ and then had taken a picture of the other man sleeping that very night. Ever since then, it had been a thing of theirs, and the photo made Liam smile for a few fleeting moments._

_Liam was locking up after himself with the key Zayn had given him years ago when he realized he had no business having it anymore. Quietly letting himself back into the house, Liam went to where he knew Zayn kept his envelopes, took one for the key, and slid it under the door after making sure Zayn was locked safely inside_

_Once in the car, Liam took a deep breath, but when he let it out, the waterfall behind his eyelids came with it. He waited until he was out of view from Zayn’s house before he pulled over and let himself fully break down._

_He’d cried over Zayn before-for his sadness that he wouldn’t tell anyone about and the way he felt so ‘dirty’ that he would scrub his beautiful skin raw. He’d never cried over the way he felt about Zayn, though, so his tears were a reservoir of disappointment, hurt, longing and false hope from years upon years._

_When he managed to calm down a bit, Liam turned on his radio, hoping some nice tunes would make him feel better, like they usually did, but some sadistic channel was playing “When We Were Young” by Adele, and Liam screamed and hit his steering wheel until his hands tingled._

“…and so I’ll be doing my internship next summer in Ireland and the year after that, I was thinking about going to the states. You know I’ve never been?”

            “Really?” Liam asked, though he had barely heard what his ex said because his phone had started buzzing again. It wasn’t Zayn this time, but Kiki, which only made Liam more concerned. He hadn’t listened to Zayn’s voicemail, assuming it had been him apologizing again. Liam would forgive him, of course, but he didn’t have the energy right now. It couldn’t hurt Zayn much to make him sweat it out a little.

            “Sorry, I’ve got to answer this,” Liam said in the middle of one of Declan’s sentences, and slid the ‘accept’ button on his phone as he headed quickly to the bathroom.

            “Hello?”

            “Hey, Liam. Sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if you’d heard from Zayn?”

            “He called me, but I was busy, so I didn’t answer and he left a voicemail that I haven’t listened to yet…Why? What’s going on?”

            “Probably nothing,” Kiki said, trying to laugh, but the worry was evident in her voice. “He was acting really weird when we got to the hotel and said he didn’t feel well, but he was kind of…uh…stumbling around and slurring his words and stuff, and I’ve been trying to call and check on him. Even if he’s fine physically, I thought he might need to talk to someone if he relapsed or something, but he hasn’t been answering his phone or his door.”

            “Shit,” Liam breathed, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he briefly closed his eyes. He tried to tell himself he had nothing to feel guilty about. Zayn had been the one saying hurtful things and pushing Liam away. He couldn’t blame Liam when he finally did get tired and walk out.

            In reality, Zayn probably didn’t blame Liam, but no logic in the world could stop Liam from blaming himself, at least partially.

            “I’m sure he’s fine,” Kiki said again. “He probably fell asleep.”

            “I’ll try calling him and let you…”

            Liam trailed off as another call started beeping through. He could have jumped for joy when he saw Zayn’s name.

            “He’s on the other line. I’ll call you back in a minute,” Liam said to the woman, who quickly agreed.

            “Zayn!” Liam answered for his other friend.

            “Hey, Li,” Zayn said. Kiki was right; his voice did sound off.

            “What’s going on, Z?” Liam asked, doing his best to keep his tone from being judgmental or condescending.

            “Nothing.”

            “Why aren’t you answering the phone for Kiki?”

            “I’ve been busy.”

            “Busy?”

            “Traveling.”

            “Traveling where?”

            Liam’s heart sunk. _He left the tour…_

“I’m outside,” Zayn said.

            “Outside…?”

            “Outside the restaurant you’re at. Sorry, I’m not a stalker, but your bus driver told me where you went.”

            “Okay, hold on. I’ll be right there.”

            Liam sent Kiki a hurried text, letting her know Zayn was at the restaurant as he all but ran out the front door. He didn’t see Zayn at first and feared that he had already left, but then a Mercedes with tinted back windows drove up to him and Zayn rolled down a window, gesturing for Liam to get in.

            “Z, are you okay?” Liam asked after he climbed into the car. Zayn simply nodded, asking his driver to park again and then requesting that he give them a few minutes alone.

            “What are you on?” Liam asked as soon as the driver had left, because the other’s eyes were red and heavy.

            “Nothing,” Zayn replied, and Liam looked down the bridge of his nose at him.

            “You know I won’t tell anyone,” Liam said. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

            “I’m fine, Liam!” Zayn exclaimed, though the angry tone he was probably going for was hidden by the grogginess in his voice. “I didn’t take anything except my medicine!”

            “What medicine?”

            “My antidepressants and antianxiety medication that the doctor prescribed me!”

            “That’s it?”

            “Yes!”

            “I think you might need something…a little less strong, then,” Liam gently suggested. “I can see now why you don’t like to take them. You can’t be very functional like this.”

            That was when Zayn admitted,

            “Well, I took a few extra.”

            “A few extra?”

            “Yeah.”

            Zayn wouldn’t look in Liam’s eyes. He was suddenly distracted by every detail of the car’s interior, as if he’d never seen the back of a Mercedes before.

            “How much is a few extra?” Liam prodded.

            “I only took one extra antidepressant and two extra for the anxiety, Li. It’s fine.”

            “Zayn!”

            “What?!”

            “Why would you do that?”

            “Because I was sad and anxious and since I skipped a few doses, I wanted to speed up the process of getting them back in my system.”     

            “That’s not how that works, Z!”

            Liam sighed, silently telling himself to remain calm. Noticeably freaking out would only make Zayn feel worse, and any chance he had of getting him to open up or accept help from him would disappear.

            “Okay,” Liam said, more to himself than to Zayn. “Where’s your driver? We need to get you to a hospital.”

            “I don’t need a hospital, Li! Do you know how hard it is to overdose on pills to the point where you die?”

            “Really? Tell that to Marilyn Monroe, Michael Jackson, Anna Nicole Smith, Brittany Murphy, Heath Ledger, and Elvis.”

            “They all had a bunch of other shit going on too,” Zayn said off-handedly. “Plus, half of those are conspiracies and the other half were getting pills that shouldn’t have been mixed in the first place from more than one source.”

            “I still think you should go get checked out, just to be sure.”

            “No,” Zayn said. “Hey, can I use your phone real quick? Mine died after we hung up and I need to let Kiki know I’m okay.”

            “She’d called me. I told her already,” Liam said, but handed his phone to Zayn anyway. The other man stuck out his tongue in concentration as he scrolled and typed, possibly due to having double vision, and when he was done, he handed the phone back to Liam, smiling.

            “Thanks!” he said. “I’ll let you get back to Declan now.”

            “Hold on, why did you come here in the first place?” Liam asked, as he didn’t feel the two had accomplished or talked about anything.

            “I don’t really know,” Zayn admitted. “I was bored, I guess.”

            “Would you like to come in and join us?” Liam questioned.

            “Nah,” Zayn said. “People will think I’m on something.”

            _You are_ , Liam thought, but didn’t say out loud. Still, he stared at Zayn, who gave him the most innocent smile he could manage.

            “What?” he asked.

            “There was something else you wanted to tell me, wasn’t there?”

            “No.”

            “What did you call me about earlier?”

            For a moment, Zayn’s smile faltered, but if Liam had blinked, he would have missed it.

            “Nothing important,” he said. “Just wanted to know where you were.”

            “Alright,” Liam said. He didn’t believe him, but it was clear that Zayn wasn’t going to talk about it right now. “I’m going to pay my tab and head out. Can I come to your room when I get back to the hotel?”

            “Sure,” Zayn said. “I’m tired, so in case I’m asleep…”

            Reaching into his back pocket, Zayn pulled out his wallet and removed one of the key cards for his room. He gave it to Liam, who attempted a smile.

            “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll see you soon. If anything feels off, call me or, better yet, an ambulance.”

            “You’re so dramatic,” Zayn said with a laugh. “See you in a few!”

            Getting out of the car felt wrong, but Liam couldn’t very well leave with Zayn right now and expect Declan to foot his bill. He nodded to Zayn’s driver, who retook his spot in the driver’s seat, and Liam walked briskly back into the restaurant. When he reached the table, Declan was just rising to his feet.

            “Oh, there you are!” his ex said, a small smile on his face. “Thought you ran out on me.”

            “Sorry, there was a work emergency,” Liam said. “Where are the bills?”

            “I took care of them.”

            “Dec, you didn’t have to do that.”

            “I kind of did,” the other laughed. “I thought you were gone, and I wasn’t about to get stuck here washing dishes.”

            “I’ll send you the money,” Liam said. “What transfer apps do you have?”

            “Don’t worry about it,” Declan assured him.

            “I can pay you back. It’s really no problem,” Liam insisted.

            “Obviously,” Declan said. “You took care of our last date, so it was my turn to pay anyway. You can get the next one.”

            Liam didn’t know why he was suddenly uncomfortable. Surely Declan wasn’t implying that this was a date; he’d had to have worded his sentence wrong.

            Forcing a smile, Liam nodded.

            “Alright. Thanks,” he said.

            In the back of his car on the way to the hotel, Liam took out his phone again to check the voicemail from Zayn. He needed to know how he sounded; sad, angry, high, fine, or ‘bored,’ as he’d claimed to be. His phone, however, told him that he had no new voicemails. He felt his forehead wrinkle in confusion, but he didn’t have to wonder what had happened long. Zayn must have deleted the message when he’d borrowed Liam’s phone.

            “Shit,” Liam whispered, but his driver still heard. After assuring him that everything was okay, Liam closed his eyes and leaned his head back, wondering how he and Zayn had fallen down such an exhausting, frustrating hole.

            Zayn was in bed when Liam got to his room. His breathing and heart rate were both steady, so Liam supposed he would forego calling an ambulance for the time being. After stripping down to his underwear, Liam crawled over Zayn and slowly put himself underneath the blankets. When his head hit the pillow, Zayn snorted and raised his own head.

            “Hm?” he wondered.

            “Just me,” Liam said. “Go back to sleep.”

            Instead, Zayn scooted closer to Liam, sleepily running his thumb up and down the man’s arm.

            “Sorry I’m exhausting,” he slurred, and for some reason, Liam found that he had to swallow a few times in order to successfully fight off unwanted emotion.

            “Sorry I’m a bulldozer,” he returned.

            “Sorry I’m bulldozer proof,” Zayn said.

            “I don’t think you are,” Liam commented, but Zayn had fallen asleep. Soon, Liam fell into a light sleep himself, but he retained just enough consciousness to detect any movement or change in Zayn. He lost track of time, but after a while, he was woken by what sounded like feet shuffling through the room and eyes staring into him, which was confusing because he still felt Zayn beside of him. Opening his eyes, Liam struggled to see anything against the darkness. He worried his pounding heart was going to wake up his sleeping friend at any moment.

            “Who’s there?” Liam whispered. Zayn twitched, but stayed asleep.

            “Who are you?” the intruder asked instead, and Liam’s fear was turning to anger that this unwelcome visitor had the nerve to question what he was doing there.

            “Who are _you_?” Liam questioned again, and then the strange man moved close enough to the open curtains that the moonlight illuminated his figure.

            “Martin,” Liam said at the same time that Martin said Liam’s name. An awkward moment passed and then Martin asked,

            “What are you doing in here?”

            “I should be asking you the same thing,” Liam said. Again, Martin replied with another question.

            “Are you fucking Zayn?”

            “I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”

            “I’m his manager.”     

            “I fail to see the point.”

            From beside Liam, Zayn groaned and turned his head to the side, but still couldn’t seem to wake himself up. Liam checked his breathing and heart rate one more time, but both remained steady.

            “Is he okay?” Martin asked.

            “He’s sick,” Liam answered, and Martin took a step closer to the bed. Instinctively, Liam put a protective arm over his friend, drawing his body in closer. Zayn buried his head in Liam’s chest, sighed, and began to snore lightly.

            “Sick with what?” Martin asked, sounding concerned.

            “I don’t know,” Liam said. “He just wasn’t feeling well, but I’m going to ask you again; what are you doing in here?”

            “Just wanted to see my client,” he said.

            “At one thirty in the morning?” Liam questioned after checking the time on the clock.

            “He usually stays up late,” Martin said. Before Liam could reply, he added,

            “I appreciate you looking after him while he’s ill, but if you want to go to your room and get some sleep, I can watch over him.”

            “I was sleeping perfectly fine here,” Liam said, which was a lie, but he’d been sleeping better than if he left Zayn alone with this man who apparently wanted to marry Zayn and took it upon himself to enter his room while he was sleeping.

            This didn’t seem to make Martin happy. He huffed air from his nose and asked, his voice louder and more impatient,

            “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”                                        

            Zayn coughed, lifting his head while his eyes were still shut and with a tired, hoarse voice, he whined,

            “Liam…”

            “Hm?” Liam said. Zayn forced his eyes open as much as he could and moved his mouth as if he were searching for what he wanted to say, but instead, he turned his head to the side and threw up in the trash can by the bed.

            “Oh, wow.  Compelling statement, Z,” Liam commented, rubbing the other’s back. Once he’d expelled all he needed to, Zayn laughed.

            “I feel better,” he said.

            “Glad to hear it,” Liam told him.

            “Goodnight.”

            “‘Night.”

            With that, Zayn laid back down, closed his eyes, and continued snoring. Liam got out of bed long enough to take the trashcan out to the balcony. He would clean it later, but something told him not to let Zayn or Martin out of his sight.

            “Is he drunk?” Martin asked.

            “No,” Liam replied.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes, Martin. Now can you please leave before you wake him up again? Clearly he needs his rest.”

            “I didn’t wake him up. His gag reflex woke him up,” Martin argued, but then said, “Let me know if he needs anything.”

            “Certainly,” Liam replied, though he would of course do no such thing. Martin stared at Zayn’s sleeping figure for another moment before leaving the room and Liam, again, pulled Zayn closer, the unsettling feeling he had seeping deep into his bones.

            Liam and Zayn woke at the same time the next morning. Rather, Liam thought he woke up because Zayn was stirring, and when he opened his eyes, Zayn was rubbing his.

            “Hey,” Liam said. “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah,” Zayn answered, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light in the room. “I have a killer headache, but I’m good.”

            “I’ll get you something to take,” Liam offered, but Zayn shook his head.

            “I think I’ve had enough pills.”

            “Glad we agree on something.”

            Zayn narrowed his eyes but couldn’t help but to laugh.

            “I bet you’re regretting bringing me on tour now.”

            “Nope,” Liam said.

            “You’re so full of shit.”

            “Hey, aren’t you trying to work on not telling me what I think or how I feel?”

            “Sorry.”

            Zayn sighed as he sat up, rubbing his forehead.

            “I’m so fucking tired of that word.”

            “What word?”

            “‘Sorry.’”

            “Me too,” Liam said.

            “I’ll try not to make you hear it anymore then,” Zayn told him.

            “It’s appreciated.”

            Soon, Liam and Zayn both decided they were hungry. Liam had the idea of ordering room service, but Zayn said that could take too long and he needed food ASAP. He told Liam he would buy breakfast if Liam were the one to run to the café on the main floor of the hotel. Liam, of course, wasn’t worried about the money, but was concerned there may be someone watching for him to leave Zayn’s room.

            “Z, I need to ask you something,” Liam said.

            “Can it wait until I have my cinnamon roll?” Zayn asked.

            “Not really,” Liam said. With a concerned look on his face, Zayn gave in.

            “Okay. What?” he asked.

            “Did you give Martin a key to your room?”

            “Of course not,” Zayn said. Liam’s heart dropped to his stomach. “Why?”

            “Because he came into your room last night.”

            Zayn’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, it seemed.

            “What?!”

            “Yeah…It was, like, one thirty in the morning, and he said he just wanted to come see you.”

            “I slept through that?!”          

            “You were very out of it. Don’t worry, I told him you were sick.”

            “He has a key to my room,” Zayn confirmed, almost looking as if he were going to be sick again.

            “Apparently,” Liam said.

            “And we have to stay here again tonight.”

            “You can stay with me if you want,” Liam said.

            “He needs to leave,” Zayn said, his eyes turning red like they always did right before he started to cry. “He needs to go home and leave me the fuck alone!”

            “I’ll see what we can do,” Liam assured the other quickly. Alarm bells were going off in his head, but he wished he knew exactly what they were trying to tell him. “Z, what happened with you and Martin?”

            “Nothing! Why would you ask me that?!”

            One tear fell out of each of Zayn’s eyes and Liam reached for him, but the other backed out of his grasp.

            “I’m just trying to understand what’s going on,” Liam said, remaining calm on the outside. He had no doubts that if this had been Liam’s room, Zayn would have run out by now.

            “He’s obsessed with me! Is that not reason enough?”

            “Yes, of course. I just wanted to make sure he hasn’t done anything to you, doll; that’s all.”

            Zayn shook his head, one more tear making its way down his cheek before he took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

            “No, it’s just…he’s just mean.”

            There was something odd about the way Zayn was speaking now; something almost juvenile, but of course Liam wasn’t going to mention it.

            “Okay, okay, come here,” Liam spoke gently, and Zayn let him take his hand and pull him closer. Wrapping his arms around Zayn, Liam rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head, noting that Zayn was shaking a little. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

            “I’m glad you told me,” Zayn said, letting Liam hug him for a moment and then pulling away. “Now I’m about to pass out so can you please go get us some breakfast?”

            “Let me just brush my teeth really fast,” Liam said. One of the last things he needed was for the poor café employees to go to the media and complain that Liam didn’t brush his teeth because he was sure his breath didn’t smell minty fresh when he hadn’t taken a toothbrush to them since before going out with Declan the previous night. “Do you want to go to my room?”

            “No, I’ll be okay,” Zayn said.

            “Alright,” Liam said. “I’ll be back soon.”

            Kiki was at the café, waiting for her own food, when Liam arrived. He smiled and waved, then went to stand next to her while the employees worked on his order.

            “Good morning,” Kiki said, smiling at her friend as they gave each other a one-armed hug.

            “‘Morning,” Liam returned. Lowering her voice, Kiki asked,

            “How’s Zayn?”

            “He’s okay, I think,” Liam said. Physically, at least, he believed it. “He didn’t relapse, he just…well, I’ll explain later.”

            Kiki nodded, understanding that Liam wasn’t going to take the chance of being overheard. She asked,

            “So what was on the voicemail he left you? Or do we need to talk about that later?”

            “I don’t know,” Liam replied. “He asked to borrow my phone and then deleted it. Why? Did he say something about the voicemail?”

            “He was just saying that he was stupid and you were going to hate him because of the dumb, selfish message he left…Did he clear it off your phone completely?”

            “I guess. It wasn’t in my unheard messages anymore.”

            “Yeah, but you can listen to your deleted messages until you erase them permanently.”

            “You can?”

            “You have an Iphone, right?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Then, yeah. Do you have your phone?”

            Liam handed it over and watched as Kiki scrolled to the bottom of his voicemail and clicked on an option called ‘deleted messages.’ There, still waiting to be heard, was Zayn’s message from the previous night.

            “You’re a saint!” Liam told the woman, and she laughed at the dumbfounded expression on his face.

            “I didn’t realize you were so technologically incompetent,” she teased.

            “I didn’t either,” Liam replied. Excusing himself, he went to sit in an empty part of the café and pressed ‘play.’

***

            Zayn counted to ten after Liam left his room and then retrieved his phone from the nightstand, where he found Martin’s number in his contacts and hit ‘call.’ Even though he was shaking; feeling angry, scared, and violated, he kept his voice even when the other answered.

            “Hey, Z! How are you feeling? I heard you weren’t well last night.”

            “I’m feeling a lot better now, thanks. Where are you?”

            “In my room.”

            “Mind if I come over?”

            Of course, Martin didn’t mind, so he told Zayn his room number and Zayn headed over right away, glad that he didn’t pass Liam in the hall.

            “Hey, darlin,’” Martin greeted the younger man with a smile, but his expression changed to one of shock when Zayn shoved him back and stepped into the room. He let the door slam behind him but stayed close enough to make a speedy exit if need be.

            “How the fuck did you get a key to my room?” Zayn asked.

            “I’m your manager,” Martin said. “It’s normal that I have a key in case of emergencies.”

            “You’re not even supposed to be on this tour,” Zayn reminded the other man. “Why did you come into my room last night?”

            “Liam told you.”

            “Obviously because it’s _not_ normal for your manager to break into your hotel room and watch you sleep.”

            “I didn’t break it and I wasn’t watching you sleep. Are you and Liam having sex?”

            “That’s none of your business.”

            “I knew it. God, Zayn, you’re such a whore.”

            “Maybe,” Zayn said, putting his hands behind his back because the urge to punch the other man in the face was almost unbearable. “But at least everyone I have sex with is of legal age.”

            “Shut your mouth,” Martin hissed, but Zayn saw it in his eyes; he was scared again. He knew Zayn could break him, possibly worse than he’d broken Zayn.

            “I don’t have to, you know,” Zayn pointed out. “Think about it; what’s stopping me from telling the world? Sure, they might think badly of me, but most people already do. I think it will look a lot worse on _you_ sleeping with a fourteen-year-old than it will me, to be honest.”

            “What do you want, Zayn? How much?”

            “How much? You think I want your money? Do you think I need money, Martin?”

            “I know you don’t _need_ money,” Martin said. “That’s obvious, since I made you a global star.”

            “You didn’t make me anything except traumatized,” Zayn said, but then shook his head. That was already giving Martin too much power; power Zayn needed to regain quickly. “I don’t want your money. I want you to leave this tour and leave me alone. I know I’m stuck in a contract with you until the middle of next year, and breaking it will only cause media attention that I don’t particularly want to deal with, but you will only contact me when it’s for business and after June, I won’t see or hear from you ever again.”

            “You’re not the victim you’re trying to pretend you are,” Martin scoffed, but his eyes widened as Zayn pulled out his phone.

            “Should I call the press?”

            “No, no. I’m leaving.”

            “Good. Oh, and one more thing.”

            “ _What_ , Zayn?”

            “If I ever find out that you touched another young boy-or girl-again, I swear to you, you’re going to regret ever being born.”

            “You were the only one,” Martin said. “You’ll always be the only one.”

            “Well, aren’t I special?”

            Zayn left the room, proud of himself. He’d terrified Martin multiple times, and he hadn’t even thrown up that time!

            When Liam came back with food, Zayn was humming and making his bed.

            “I just passed Martin,” Liam said. “He was leaving in an awful big hurry.”

            Zayn straightened, smiling as he looked at Liam.

            “I took care of things, don’t worry.”

            Based on his expression, Liam was very worried. He struggled with what to say and finally settled on,

            “Are you okay?”

            “I’m great!” Zayn assured him. “Thanks for grabbing breakfast. I’m starving!”

            Zayn went to the bathroom and washed his hands one, two, three times before Liam’s voice called out gently; just barely loud enough to be heard over the water.

            “The dirt is gone, Zayn.”

            Realizing that he was right, Zayn shut off the water, dried his hands and went to sit on his bed next to Liam. He took a sip of the tea Liam had gotten for him and sighed, content. Liam was staring at him.

            “What?” Zayn asked.

            “Just trying to understand,” Liam replied.

            “Understand what?”

            “You.”

            “Any luck?”

            “Not really.”

            Zayn laughed, taking a bite from his cinnamon roll and nearly moaning. He was so hungry that his sweet tasted what he thought the clouds of Heaven probably tasted like. Liam, who didn’t seem to be sharing his euphoric state, asked,

            “Why did you delete the message you left me last night?”

            “Because it was just a bunch of nonsense,” Zayn said.

            “Nonsense, huh?”

            “Yeah. I was out of my head, you know, so I was saving you time not having to listen to my crazy ramblings.”

            “Actually, you sounded pretty level-headed to me.”

            “Last night? Liam, I was completely out of it; you said so yourself.”

            “Yeah, later, but you sounded completely unmedicated on the voicemail.”

            Zayn froze with a bite of roll in his mouth. After a moment, he remembered to chew and swallow, but his mind was racing. The message had said it was unread when Zayn had gotten to it. He’d been relieved, because even though what he’d said was true, other thoughts had started to get the better of him. Maybe Declan wouldn’t be so bad for Liam. Yes, he’d hurt him, but so had Zayn. Plus, they’d been younger when they broke up and after only being with each other, maybe they’d both needed more experiences before finding their way back together. What if they were each other’s fate and Zayn had been the one getting in the way of their love story?

            “I thought you hadn’t listened to it,” Zayn said to Liam.

            “I hadn’t last night, but you can listen to deleted voicemails until you clear them from your phone,” Liam said.

            “So you decided to listen to it even though I clearly didn’t want you to?”

            “It’s my phone,” Liam said with a shrug. To soften his words, he said, “I liked the message, Z. I wish you didn’t regret it.”

            “I don’t…I don’t regret it,” Zayn tried to explain. “I’m just working on not being selfish and that voicemail was selfish because I’m probably not good for you and you could be with Declan or someone else who will make you happy and isn’t so complicated.”

            “I don’t want Declan or someone else. I want you, you thick headed bigot,” Liam said lovingly. Zayn wasn’t sure how such a phrase could be said with love, but somehow, Liam had managed it.

            “No,” Zayn disagreed. “You probably just think that because Thomas broke your heart and so you came back to what’s familiar.”

            “Thomas?” Liam questioned, and then laughed. “Thomas didn’t break my heart, Z. I would have actually had to care that we ended.”

            “But those songs on your new album…”

            “What songs?”

            “‘Infinity,’ ‘Slow,’ ‘Fool’s Gold…’”

            “Those weren’t for Thomas,” Liam said, laughing again. “Those were…They were just songs.”

            “Oh.”

            “Tell me the truth, Zayn. Did you mean what you said on the voicemail? Do you want me? Or do you at least want to try?”

            Zayn hesitated for only a moment, though he was sure it felt like hours to Liam. Saying that no, he didn’t mean it, wouldn’t only be a lie, but it would hurt Liam worse than Zayn had ever done before. He couldn’t do that-didn’t want to do that-and so he had no choice but to nod.

            “I do,” he admitted, “but if something happens, I’m terrified I’ll lose you completely.”

            “I don’t think that will happen,” Liam said, pulling Zayn’s chin up with his finger and giving him a reassuring smile.

            “You don’t think, but you don’t know,” Zayn pointed out.

            “No,” Liam admitted. “I’m not psychic, but I also don’t think we can keep going like we have been the past couple of days.”

            “I hope not,” Zayn admitted, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “The past two days have been awful for me, so I can’t even imagine for you…”

            Zayn shook his head, not wanting to think anymore about the tears on Liam’s cheeks and the exhaustion in his voice that had all been Zayn’s fault.

            “Fresh start,” Liam said. “I mean, not completely fresh because every moment leading up to this has been important, but I understand where you were coming from and I think you know where I was coming from too.”

            Zayn nodded.

            “I do,” he said, and sighed.

            “What was that sigh for, Malik?” Liam asked, the corners of his lips curling up. He scooted closer so that one of his knees was touching Zayn’s and took another bite of his food.

            “Because, Payne,” Zayn said, “you’ve got to be the most patient, forgiving, stupid, amazing person I’ve ever met.”

            “Three out of four of those were positive adjectives…I guess I’ll take it.”

            “You called me a thick-headed bigot,” Zayn reminded the other.

            “Fair enough,” Liam said. Zayn smiled and turned to throw his napkin and empty box away, but his trash can wasn’t next to his bed like he’d thought it had been.

            “Where’s my rubbish bin?” he wondered aloud, and he hadn’t expected Liam to know, but, with his mouth half full, Liam said,

            “Oh, I took it out to the balcony after you threw up in it last night.”

            “I threw up?” Zayn asked, pulling his eyebrows together as he tried and failed to remember that happening.

            “Yep,” Liam said, swallowing his food. “You said my name, looked at me as if you were about to spill the secret to life, love, and the universe, and then spilled your guts instead.”

            “That’s lovely,” Zayn said. “And you think you want a hot mess like that?”

            “No,” Liam said. “I know I do.”

            Zayn smiled and Liam did too.

            “Thanks, Li,” Zayn said, suddenly unable to look in the other’s eyes. His heart was hammering with excitement, but also with fear. Maybe, though, being afraid wasn’t always a bad thing.

            “For what? For wanting you?” Liam asked. “I kinda can’t help it, though I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

            “Not just that,” Zayn said, glancing towards the other man, but still avoiding his direct gaze. “For not giving up on me back when I was drinking and using and sleeping around, for being my biggest supporter while I was in rehab, for somehow knowing I needed this tour before I knew it, and for not letting me shut you out.”

            “That means you want me in, then?” Liam questioned. “All the way in? And not just sexually, as I am inadvertently making this sound?”

            “Yes,” Zayn said with a laugh. Finally, he looked at Liam and felt as if he were physically melting under the soft gaze the other was giving him. “I think so, I’m just not sure if I know how exactly that works.”

            “We’ll figure it out,” Liam said, and though the words were simple, Zayn thought they were beautiful. Liam was so full of hope that it was contagious, and though Zayn knew his feeling of optimism was probably going to be short-lived, he had hope for the first time that it wouldn’t be.


	12. Natural

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, sorry for the long, unexpected break. There was a family matter that we weren't expecting to happen so soon, and it's taken a lot of time, energy and adjustment. With that being said, I wrote half of this before that happened and the other half after and it's only a flashback chapter, but I wanted to just get this one out there and start fresh with the next chapter, which should be up within a week. Thank you for your patience!

_Zayn wasn't typically the type to use oxymorons, but when it came to Liam, that seemed to change. With Liam, Zayn felt younger than he'd remembered feeling in a long time. When he was with Liam, he laughed harder than he thought he ever had before. He found himself wanting to be wild and reckless. Yet, there was a part of Zayn that felt older, too. Though Zayn was eighteen, there were still times he felt like a scared little boy, but with Liam around, that vanished. Zayn found that he'd never known what 'relaxed' was until he was alone with Liam, his head tucked into his chest while he listened to his quiet breathing and felt his heartbeat underneath the hand Zayn laid on his chest. He would count those heartbeats until he fell asleep, sometimes._

_The only downside to the whole thing was that Zayn couldn't tell the world. He longed to write an entire album about the way Liam made him feel and brag about this amazing man who, for some reason, thought Zayn worthy of his attention. But Zayn could only tell Louis, and soon, he found he couldn't even safely do that because Louis took his words to mean that Zayn was in love with Liam, which wasn't true. It couldn't be, as they weren't even together. Louis wouldn't stop trying to tell Zayn otherwise, though, so eventually, he started keeping his thoughts of Liam to himself._

_As Zayn had theorized, Liam's first single did exceptionally well. It gained the most attention in England and not much in countries furthest from Europe, but for a first single from someone who had absolutely no fame, even on social media, the success was exceptional. Zayn told Liam so, but of course, Liam wasn't worried about who wasn't listening to his song; he was amazed that anyone outside his family or friends purchased a copy._

_Before releasing his single and embarking on his road to fame, Liam's team insisted he take the picture of Zayn and himself off the internet. He was to tell no one that he knew Zayn, let alone that Zayn had helped jump start his career, and Liam didn't understand it, but Zayn explained it was a marketing tactic. Their styles were too similar for them to be friends, so instead, they would be industry rivals. This could work in Zayn's favor, as his fans wouldn't take kindly to some newcomer trying to take his spotlight, but it would also work in Liam's favor. Like most celebrities, Zayn had his fair share of haters who would pay loads of money to watch him be knocked from his throne. Liam was there to take that money._

_"I don't like this," Liam had said, frowning as his thumb hovered over the 'delete' button._

_"That's how this business works, darling," Zayn told him. "Don't worry. We don't have to hate each other in private and we're both good at keeping secrets."_

_To celebrate Liam's success, Zayn was taking him to London for a night away. They wouldn't be able to do much since Zayn and Liam were now both notable public figures, but Zayn was determined to make this the best 'stuck in a hotel' experience of either of their lives._

_When Zayn pulled into Liam's driveway with Louis's car, he honked to announce his arrival. That was something he'd never done before and he felt rude, but it was worth it to see Liam and his sisters' expressions when they drew back the blinds and saw the Jaguar. One by one, they all raced outside and Zayn laughed to himself as the three circled the vechicle, admiring every inch of it._

_"Is Louis with you?" Liam asked, trying to look through the front window into the backseat._

_"No," Zayn replied simply. Liam asked,_

_"Then why do you have his car? Is something wrong with yours?"_

_"No," Zayn said again. "I'm simply delivering the car to you."_

_"Why?"_

_"It's our gift to you."_

_Liam's eyes widened as one of his sisters shrieked. The man said,_

_"I can't accept this, Z! It's too expensive!"_

_"It really wasn't that much," Zayn explained. "Louis got a great deal on it since he was modeling Jaguars for a while. He said he'll pay the difference for the insurance against whatever you're paying now until you really get on your feet. He just wants the car gone."_

_"But why? It's so beautiful."_

_"Reminds him of his modeling days," Zayn said. "He wants as little to do with that as possible. If we weren't best friends, he'd probably want to get rid of me, too."_

_Zayn could see the unspoken 'why' in Liam's eyes, but unfortunately, he didn't have an answer for him. No one seemed to care that Louis was gay. The only people surprised by it were Zayn's parents. There were other homosexual celebrities who seemed quite interested in a romantic (or at least sexual) relationship with him, but Louis was having none of it. He wanted to date guys who didn't have their own dicks up their asses, he said. He was tired of kale and detox diets. He wanted to eat a 'normal' cupcake packed with carbs, dairy, and sugar, and not have to justify it during measurements the next day. Zayn understood and wished he wasn't so starved for the kind of attention fame brought. He wished he could feel validated even if his songs weren't on the charts, his name wasn't trending, and even if his face was mising from magazine covers._

_"That's not fair to Louis...," Liam said as he ran his fingers along the slick, shiny doorknob._

_"If Liam's an idiot and doesn't want it, can I have it?!" Nicola asked._

_"I want it," Liam said._

_"Then it's yours," Zayn said. "You ready to take it for a drive?"_

_Liam nodded, though looked nervous, as if he wasn't sure he should be trusted with the responsibility. Zayn gave him a reassuring smile and hopped out long enough to go around to the other side of the car and get in the passenger seat. Liam took the driver's side and he seemed in awe as he carressed the steering wheel. He really was an easy guy to please, Zayn thought._

_Just like when Liam had driven Zayn's car, he started out timidly but was soon speeding down the highway like a professional stunt driver. Zayn pretended he wasn't fearing for his life._

_"I didn't know we were staying at a fancy hotel," Liam commented once he'd followed Zayn's directions to where they were staying._

_"There's a pay-by-the-hour motel down the street if you'd rather," Zayn offered._

_"I never said I was complaining," Liam pointed out._

_Zayn checked in at the front desk using his fake name, which seemed to greatly amuse Liam, and then he led the way to their assigned room._

_"We don't have to use both beds," Zayn told the other as they walked in to see two queens in lieu of a king as Zayn had almost reserved before he thought the better of it. If word got out that he was staying with a male friend in a room with only one bed, it would likely not be a pretty clean-up._

_"I was hoping you would say that," Liam said with a smile. Zayn returned it, his face suddenly hot._

_"Champagne?" he asked, lifting the bottle that was waiting for them in their mini-bar._

_"Maybe once I take my coat off," Liam teased, but Zayn realized he was right. He needed to pace the alcohol consumption so that Liam wouldn't find him too intoxicated for the plans he had later._

_Zayn and Liam relaxed with one glass of champagne and a snack of almonds before making their way to the hotel's bowling alley. Zayn put a bandana around his hair and fake galsses on his face as a means of disguise. Liam asked what it felt like to be so famous he had to pretend to be someone else for any hope of having privacy. Zayn said he would find out in due time. Liam, of course, doubted his words._

_There was a bar in the bowling alley, but Zayn stopped himself at one drink. He felt he might need more to follow through with his plans, but those thoughts were short lived when Zayn focused on the way Liam's bicep bulged while he held the bowling ball, or when he watched his ass while Liam walked carefully to the lane, or when he was wrapped in his solid embrace, smelling his cologne, after one of them made either a very bad or very good roll._

_Perhaps because Zayn was slightly distracted (or maybe just because Zayn was terrible at anything sport-related), Liam won the game by a landslide._

_"Alright," Zayn said after they returned to the room. They'd played a second game, but Liam had beaten Zayn by even more points that time. Zayn hadn't planned on playing a second game and was too anxious for what was coming next to put effort into anything but finishing the game as quickly as possible. "What do you want as your prize for winning?"_

_"Hm...how about a kiss?" Liam asked innocently. Zayn obliged, lightly biting Liam's bottom lip before breaking apart._

_"Is that all?" he asked softly, hoping he didn't sound as moronic as he felt he did. "Just a kiss?"_

_Zayn guessed that, to Liam at least, his lousy attempts at charm worked because the other man had suddenly developed a light stutter when he answered,_  
_"Wh-what do you think my prize should be?"_

_"Well, we both put in a good game, I think," Zayn said, even though he'd bowled terribly. "How about we do something that's mutually beneficial?"_

_Liam's breath caught in his throat as Zayn slid his hands under the other's shirt. He felt along his toned abs before giving his hips a light squeeze._

_"You're so fit. How are you even real?" Zayn asked as he lifted Liam's shirt over the man's head._

_"I'm not," Liam claimed._

_"You're not real?" Zayn asked, leaning back just enough to look at Liam and raising one eyebrow. His arms were wrapped around the other's waist. "Damn it, I knew it."_

_"No," Liam laughed. "I meant I'm not that fit."_

_"Your humbleness is charming," Zayn said, beginning to kiss along Liam's exposed collarbone._

_"I'm not trying to be humble."_

_Zayn moved his kiss to Liam's lips, unwilling to argue with someone who was insane enough to not find Liam attractive, even if it was Liam himself. Liam was alright with dropping the subject and kissed Zayn back, their intimacy growing with each passing second._

_"Are we...?" Liam asked, and trailed off; apparently unsure how to respectfully ask if they were going to have sex._

_"Mhm," Zayn replied, gasping as Liam pulled him closer so that their crotches nearly aligned. Zayn's body surprised him by reacting positively right away, but Liam must not have noticed because he asked,_

_"Was that a yes?"_

_"Yes, Liam."_

_With his hands on the small of Liam's back, Zayn walked backwards to the bed, where he pulled Liam down on top of him as he laid._

_"Are you sure?" Liam asked._

_"Yes," Zayn said, and unbuckled Liam's belt. That in itself elicited a small moan. This probably wouldn't last long, Zayn thought, which might be a good change from his previous experience._

_Liam straddled Zayn and began kissing him again, feverishly this time, as his hands roamed all over Zayn's body. His touch wasn't restrictive, though, as Zayn was used to. Liam ran his hands gently and smoothly over Zayn's body, as if he were fragile. Probably, he was worried Zayn would freak out like last time. Zayn grew embarrassed all over again, and to show Liam that he was serious about this, Zayn took off his own shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans, but couldn't do much with Liam on top of him, so, with a side smile, he asked,_

_"Wanna help me out with that?"_

_Liam's mouth damn near dropped open and he nodded, but as hungry as he looked, he went slow as he helped Zayn out of his jeans. He kissed his thighs once they were exposed and his lips once his trousers were on the floor and Liam was met with the sight of Zayn in only a pair of small, tight, expensive underwear that he had purchased for this occasion._

_For only a few moments, Zayn was insecure. Though it was a ridiculous thought, he wondered if Liam could see the handprints of the one and only person who had ever touched him previously. He wondered if he could see the dirt._

_"You're gorgeous," Liam said, and if it were anyone else, Zayn would likely wonder if he was saying that to hide the way he truly felt, but Liam was such a sincere indiviual that Zayn could only believe that Liam meant what he said; that maybe he was worthy of something nice even if he was filthy._

_Wordlessy, Zayn helped Liam to remove his own trousers and then, lying side-by-side with Liam propped up on one arm as he kissed Zayn and massaged his thigh-the area of skin just a few inches below his underwear-the pair was in virtually the same position they had been in last time before Zayn had lost his mind._

_That, Zayn thought, was the reason Liam wasn't going any further. He was still kissing Zayn and massaging his leg more than a minute later. They certainly hadn't been moving this slow the first time._

_Realizing he was going to have to make the big move, Zayn pulled Liam back on top of him and slid his hands up his underwear until he was only an inch or two away from Liam's growing penis. Liam's breath caught in his throat and Zayn caught it with his mouth._

_"Z, did you bring anything?" Liam asked. Zayn didn't know specifically what he was talking about, but luckily, he'd come fully prepared._

_"Yeah...in my bag...hold on."_

_Removing his hands from Liam's underwear, Zayn gave his thigh a soft pinch before sitting up. Liam gave him a kiss before letting him stand. Zayn had panicked for a brief second, thinking Liam was going to pin him down until he was through with him after all, but of course, he didn't. He wouldn't, Zayn reminded himself. Otherwise, he would have done so last time._

_Strutting over to his bag, realizing that Liam was watching him, Zayn pulled out a jar of lube and a box of condoms. He set the items on the nightstand and slid off his underwear, leaving himself standing completely naked in front of Liam, who seemed unable to stop himself from ogling. He'd also appeared to have forgotten how to form words and after fish-mouthing for a few moments, he gently pulled Zayn closer by his hips and kissed his stomach._

_"Want help with yours?" Zayn asked, eyeballing Liam's underwear. The other man nodded, lying down as Zayn crawled onto the bed and undressed him._

_Zayn's heart was pounding. Here they were, both at their most vulnberable, and Zayn wondered if Liam was as nervous as he was._

_Being nervous felt good, though, Zayn thought, because he wasn't scared. He didn't dread what was coming. Rather, he was worried that he wouldn't satisfy Liam like he deserved; that he would disappoint Liam like the last time they'd nearly gotten this far. Liam had been nice and understanding once, but Zayn wouldn't expect anyone to be so forgiving a second time._

_As Zayn tended to do, he'd worried about nothing._

_After determining that Liam could top (Zayn would be given less expectations and that was all he knew anyway), Liam had gently lubed them both up. He'd assured Zayn he was clean, but used the condom anyway and kissed Zayn's neck and back as he worked on getting himself in. Multiple times, he checked to make sure Zayn was alright._

_While it was likely to never be comfortable, forcing such a big (especially in Liam's case) body part into a tight space, Zayn was surprised and pleased to find that the pain didn't have to be unbearable and that being on the bottom could actually feel good. He'd just been thinking he didn't mind if this lasted a while when Liam finished, but they still weren't done._

_Not one to be a selfish lover, Liam kissed and felt; massaged and rubbed until Zayn had finished too, and then he'd kissed him and laid next to him, his fingers running softly up and down Zayn's spine as Liam studied his face, smiling._

_"I'm hungry," Liam said after a few minutes. It was the first thing either had said since finishing, and Zayn gave a small laugh._

_"That's good," he said, "because I have dinner reservations for us in about an hour."_

_"I guess we better start cleaning up then, huh?"_

_"Probably."_

_They had made quite the mess, Zayn noticed after Liam had kissed him again and then helped him out of bed, but Zayn didn't feel dirty. He knew he wasn't clean; he had Liam's fingerprints,saliva, and probably other bodily fluids, despite using protection, on his body, but he didn't mind._

_The pair showered separately so as not to get distracted and Liam told Zayn he looked handsome before they headed to dinner. Liam had given Zayn many compliments before, but that was a new one, and Zayn blushed before telling Liam, dressed up in a nice maroon button-up, that he thought that was his color._

_**This is what it's supposed to feel like** , Zayn realized that night as they went for round two. They were only performing oral services that time, as Zayn didn't think he was quite ready to either take Liam's offer to top or be the bottom for a second time in less than twelve hours. He wasn't supposed to want to cry the whole time, he wasn't meant to hate himself afteward, and his partner shouldn't have to plead and blackmail for him not to tell anyone what they'd done. Of course, most people still couldn't know, but instead of that making Zayn feel shameful, he found the entire relationship to be more exciting._

  
_When they finished for the night, Zayn looked forward to the morning, when they could do it again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write real smut for you guys since you had to wait forever, but I am incapable of doing that, so I apologize again. I'll try to make everything up to you with the next chapter!


	13. For You

_"See? I told you dick is great."_

_"What are you talking about, weirdo?" Zayn asked, pointedly not looking at Louis and turning to triple-check that he had the box in front of him packaged up tight. It was moving day for Louis, and Zayn, Harry, and Liam were helping him pack the remainder of his things (he'd sold or donated most of his possessions to charity), but Liam was currently out picking up pizza while Harry went to the store to purchase more tape._

_"You and Liam had sex, I can tell. You both have a glow about you."_

_"A glow, huh?" Zayn replied, at a loss for what else to say._

_"Yep!" Louis said. "So do I get any details?"_

_"No."_

_"What?! Why not?!"_

_Louis actually sounded offended and Zayn rolled his eyes, his back still to his friend._

_"Those are supposed to be private moments, Louis."_

_"Debatable. At least tell me what you thought. I mean, you can just **tel** l Liam's got a big penis and for your first time-"_

_"It wasn't my first time."_

_Louis laughed, but upon seeing the expression on Zayn's face when he turned around, the former model quickly sobered._

_"Wait, really?"_

_"Really."_

_"Why wasn't I aware of this?!"_

_"Private moments, Lou," Zayn reminded his friend. Besides, he wished Liam had taken his virginity. To Louis, he added, "The first person I was with isn't worth mentioning anyway."_

_"How disappointing," Louis said. "So was Liam an upgrade, at least?"_

_"That's putting it mildly."_

_Louis gave a shriek like that was the best news he'd ever heard. Zayn jumped._

_"Does this mean you two are official now?" he asked. Again, Zayn rolled his eyes._

_"No," he said, and Louis didn't bother to hide his disappointment._

_"Why not?"_

_"Relationships are complicated, Lou," Zayn said. "Our lives are already complicated enough, so we don't need that on top of everything else."_

_"Relationships are only complicated if you're doing them wrong," Loius said, but Zayn was spared having to defend his point when they heard Liam's voice from what seemed a mile away in that house._

_"I have pizza!"_

 

     "What are we going to do today?"

     It had taken a couple hours, but Zayn and Liam had finally forced themselves to stop cuddling long enough to shower. Still, the day was young and Zayn felt they should get out and do something. It was anti-climactic, he thought, to spend their first day as a couple inside, staring at the walls.

     Liam seemed to disagree.

     "I don't care," he said. "As long as I get to be with my boyfriend, I'm having a great time."

     Zayn rolled his eyes, though there was a smile on his face. He'd lost count of how many times Liam had said 'boyfriend' over the past couple of hours.

     Unoffended by Zayn's eyeroll, Liam gave his forehead a soft kiss.

     "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Do you even want to do anything?"

     "I feel fine," Zayn assured him. "Let's do something. We're touring the world, so we might as well see it."

     "Like we haven't before?" Liam teased.

     "Not together," Zayn said. Liam's expression quickly became serious before he gave a warm smile and kissed Zayn, his thumb stroking the other's jawline even after they broke apart.

     "You're right," he said. "Let's go see the world."

     The pair got a ride to a pumpkin patch, where Liam expressed disappointment that they wouldn't be home to carve pumpkins this year. Zayn didn't share his sorrow, but assured him he could still carve one on the bus or even backstage before a show.

     As Liam did, he took plenty of pictures of himself, Zayn, the pumpkins, and Zayn and the pumpkins. Once they were far from the patch, drinking cider and eating pumpkin pastries in a cute little cafe, did Liam upload the pictures. He couldn't post their favorite, from when they'd sneaked behind a tree to take a cliche kissing picture. Liam had turned the photo black and white, but left the leaf that had fallen onto Zayn's shoulder its vibrant orange color. Zayn had Liam send him that picture, which he then messaged to Louis with the caption,

      _Aren't my boyfriend and I cute?_

     Zayn then had to turn off his phone because Louis refused to stop ringing him. That didn't help because then Louis simply called Liam, who kindly sent him a text explaining that they were in public but would call later.

     "Do you think those fans saw us kiss?" Zayn asked on the ride back to their hotel. Their plan was to take a nap and then see if Kiki wanted to go to dinner and a haunted house with them.

     At the question, Liam's driver glanced into the rearview mirror, looking alarmed, but both men ignored him.

     "I don't care," Liam said of the two teenage girls who had approached them and asked for a picture only moments after the men had emerged from behind the tree. "I think they're close to letting me come out, at least halfway."

     "Halfway?" Zayn questioned.

     "Yeah. There was talk of letting me say I'm bi or that I don't label my sexuality so fans don't feel betrayed or whatever. There are still fans thinking I'm going to get back with Gianna and my team is afraid I'll lose them if they find out their 'power couple' was never really a couple at all."

     "Understandable, I guess," Zayn said. Liam's driver cleared his throat uncomfortably, but when Liam took Zayn's hand and gave him that special smile, Zayn found he couldn't be worried.

     Liam woke from his nap before Zayn, and was on the balcony talking on the phone when Zayn came to. He later explained that he'd been talking to Louis, who was upset that they didn't call as soon as they were back in the hotel, but was very happy for them as well. Louis had also asked Liam to be a groomsman, which seemed to make him almost as happy as when Zayn agreed to be his boyfriend.

     Kiki agreed to go out with the men that evening. As they were in public, Zayn and Liam had to act as if they were only friends, but the woman kept looking between them, curiosity written all over her face, at every small interaction betwen the men. It was only when Liam banged his head getting back in the car and Zayn said, "Jeez, careful, babe," before kissing his head (and then his lips) that Kiki concluded for herself that their relationship had been confirmed. She let out an audible gasp.

     "I knew something felt different between you two!" she exclaimed, one hand on either cheek as she gazed at the men blissfully. "Oh my gosh. You're both so cute!"

     They laughed and thanked her, Zayn feeling almost light-headed from how at ease he was in that moment.

     Of course, that changed upon arriving to the haunted house. Zayn knew the monsters inside were just decorations or people in costumes and he knew they weren't allowed to touch him, but Martin hadn't technically been allowed to touch him either and that hadn't stopped him.

     The only hands that touched his body that night belonged to Liam as the singer kept his hands in Zayn's back pocket, assuring him he was there, and walking close enough behind him that no one else would be able to tell where exactly his hands were.

     The whole thing was almost erotic, really, Zayn thought, until a plastic head fell onto his shoulder and caused him to scream. Naturally, he was a target for the monsters after that, but Kiki, bless her, flirted with them-the men and women, alike-and distracted most of them enough to keep them at bay from Zayn.

     "Thank goodness we survived," Liam joked once the three were safely packed into the back of his car. Zayn (who was only shaking a little) didn't know if Liam was making fun of him or not, but decided to go along with the joke anyway.

     "I never thought I was going to see you again," he said, and Liam smiled.

     "Aw, babe."

     As Liam kissed Zayn, Kiki gave a small noise of disgust from beside them.

     "I take back what I said. You two aren't cute. You're gross."

     Liam giggled, but continued to kiss Zayn, who knew Kiki had been teasing, but wasn't so sure about Liam's driver. He could feel his eyes burning into them before he started driving away.

     "Is your driver a tad bit homophobic?" Zayn questioned Liam once they had settled into Liam's room for the night.

     "I don't think so," Liam said. "He's probably just concerned over how everything is going to play out, like the rest of my team is, but they'll be fine and I'll be fine."

     "No regrets?" Zayn asked, trying to sound casual, but the frown on Liam's face hinted that he'd failed.

     "No, babe," Liam said, touching Zayn's cheek before giving him a kiss. "No regrets."

     Zayn forgot his worries once the two were in bed, bundled up in sweatshirts and pajama bottoms against the exceptionally chilly night. Soon, Liam was on top of Zayn, kissing him all over his body and grinding against him until neither could stand it anymore and their layers came off.

     "I'm clean," Zayn assured Liam. "I know I was fucking around a lot after...you know, but I was tested and everything came out negative. I still have to go back for the six month follow up test, though, so I can go get a condom if you want."

     "I'm sure it's fine," Liam said hastily. "Think you would have noticed by now if there was something abnormal going on."

     "Yeah, but...just in case..."

     Zayn felt as if Liam wanted to argue, but the two had never had sex without a condom before, even when they'd been each other's only partner. Liam probably thought Zayn used them because of his obsession with cleanliness but really, Zayn hadn't felt he was ready for such direct skin-to-skin contact. That night was the first time Zayn felt he was ready, but not if it meant putting Liam at risk.

      Somewhat reluctantly, Liam let Zayn go so that he could hurry to his room and get a few condoms. He forgot the lube, but Liam was ready with his own when Zayn returned.

     As soon as he was within touching distance, Liam pulled Zayn back onto the bed and began hungrily kissing him again.

     The act was sloppy, as if it was the couple's first time all over again. Zayn knew he'd missed Liam, but he hadn't known how deep the longing for him went until he didn't have to wish for his touch anymore. Liam was rushing, which Zayn took to mean he felt the same way.

     He confirmed that theory after both had finished-virtually at the same time-and Liam collapsed next to Zayn, breathing heavily.

     "Fuck...I missed that. I missed you," he said. Zayn showed his agreement by kissing Liam, though the kiss didn't last long, since both were still struggling to catch their breath.

     Zayn was just wondering how he'd gone from having the worst few days of his life to the best when he was met with another pleasant surprise the next day.

     Delilah was putting the finishing touches on Zayn's hair and spraying it well enough to ensure not a single strand would move, even in the case of a level nine earthquake. Liam was sitting on the couch in Zayn's dressing room, scrolling through his phone, when he gasped.

     "What's wrong?" Zayn asked.

     "Have you seen Niall's Instagram today?" Liam asked, and Zayn's heart seemed to fall right out of his chest.

     "No. Why?"

     "Nothing's wrong," Liam said, belatedly answering Zayn's first question as he rose to his feet and walked over to give his boyfriend his phone. Zayn saw the picture Niall had posted of himself; smiling and clear-eyed, and then read the caption underneath.

      _6 weeks clean from drugs and 4 from alcohol might not sound like much, but it feels huge to me....Thanks @zaynmalik for the talk a couple months ago and thanks @giannapoleski for being a great friend even through the nasty withdrawals. I owe you both big time. XX_

     Scrolling to the next picture in the post, Zayn smiled as he saw Niall and Gianna, standing close with Gianna's hand on the man's chest. Both looked happy.

     "Well," Zayn said, and then had to clear his throat. "It looks like Gianna might be moving on, Liam. I'm here if you need a shoulder to cry on."

     "Shut up," Liam said with a laugh as he took his phone and slid it into his back pocket. "I'm sure I'll be fine after I write an album or two about it."

     "If you say so, but I'm sure your fans would understand if you have to cancel for the night."

     "I'll press through for them," Liam said, sniffling and dabbing a fake tear from his eye. From the side, Delilah snorted softly. More seriously, Liam said, "I didn't know you were helping Niall get clean. That's wonderful, babe."

     "I wasn't," Zayn said. "I mean...we had a small chat in the loo at your album release party, but I haven't talked to him since then. I didn't even expect him to remember our conversation."

     A feeling of guilt suddenly overwhelmed Zayn. Niall had shown interest in getting clean, even at the party. He'd asked Zayn how he'd done it and Zayn had joked about it at first. He'd given him a more serious answer afterward, but then their conversation had been interrupted and Zayn never thought to reach out to him again. He'd been selfishly wrapped up in his own life and worries.

     If Zayn had been harboring any ill will towards Louis for throwing him out (which he wasn't), he'd have to give it up now because he'd done virtually the same thing to Niall. Zayn didn't deserve any credit for his friend's newfound sobriety, but all he could do at that point was call Niall-something he hadn't done in ages-and let him know how proud he was of him.

     "Something you said must have stuck," Liam told Zayn, ignorant of his guilt, and then kissed him. Zayn hadn't told Delilah of his and Liam's new relationship status, but she didn't seem shocked by the display of affection.

     "I need to call him," Zayn said, and promptly left the room without another word.

     Zayn couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Niall speak without slurring, so he barely recognized his friend's voice when he answered the phone.

     "Hey, Z," Niall greeted like he'd been expecting his call.

     "Niall," Zayn said, alarmed by the way he'd suddenly started to cry. He wiped his eyes quickly without missing a beat. "I'm so proud of you, mate! I...had no idea and...fuck. I wish I'd known so I could have been there at the beginning."

     "It's okay," Niall said, chuckling as if he were unsure why Zayn was so emotional. "I was just a feverish, incoherent, puking, shaking, crying mess."

     "Been there," Zayn reminded the other.

     "It's alright," Niall assured him again. "I wasn't alone. Besides, you're the one who got me in the right headspace to give it up."

     "But...how? I'm so happy you did give it up, but you deserve that credit, mate; not me."

     "I give myself credit too," Niall assured him. "But you asked me if I ever forget, even when I'm drunk and high, and that got me thinking. I realized that I didn't forget, ever. I didn't even really become numb, like I'd told myself I was. It's just that my need for drugs or alcohol overcame my need to forget. Forgetting was a secondary worry. I could live with the memories, but I'd convinced myself I couldn't live without the drugs or alcohol. Eventually it got to the point where I didn't really care if I lived or not, and that's when I gave it up. I finally felt something that was almost like human again, which was awful and amazing at the same time. That sounds stupid, but...you know what I mean, right?"

     "I know exactly what you mean," Zayn assured him. "Niall...do you want to tell me what you trying so hard to forget?"

     Feeling stupid and, again, like a terrible friend, Zayn asked,

     "Was it your home life before you went to California?"

     "That," Niall said, "and some things that happened in California."

     "Do you want to talk about it?"

     "Well...we have a lot in common, Z," Niall said. "I think...I think you might know."

     Zayn thought before an idea struck him and he nearly gasped.

     "Are you gay?!"

     "No...no, I'm not gay."

     "Bi?"

     "No. I'm straight, but...You know what? It doesn't matter. I'm learning to live with it and I think one day soon, I might actually be happy."

     "That's great, Niall," Zayn said, nearly choking up again after only just composing himself moments ago. "Look, I know I haven't been around as a friend much, but seriously, call me anytime, and come to a show soon!"

     "Gianna and I were actually planning to go to the Dublin show," Niall said.

     "Oh, great! I'll get to see you soon then, but seriously, call or text anytime."

     "Yeah. You too."

     "One more thing."

     "Yeah?"

     "You and Gianna are really cute together."

     Niall laughed.

     "We're just friends."

     "Yeah, and so were me and Liam."

     Probably to his fans' disappointment, Zayn was much less sexual with his dancers that night. For one, he knew his boyfriend was just backstage, and even though it would all be for show, Zayn wouldn't have liked watching him feel up his dancers. Secondly, Zayn didn't feel as if he needed that tactic for a good performance anymore. He was gay, and people were curious and fascinated by it, but even though he had an adult video floating around on the internet, he wasn't a porn star. He was a singer, and it was time he reminded people of that.

     To date, that had been Zayn's favorite show of the tour (maybe even of all time) and still, it only got better.

     Zayn was backstage talking to Kiki as his boyfriend's voice floated beautifully to their ears. After the song 'Alive' ended and Liam started to speak, Kiki grew silent, a smile slowly forming wider and wider across her lips. Curious, Zayn tuned his ears into Liam's words as well.

     "Okay, so, as you probably know, at this point of the night, I typically bring the gorgeous and talented Kiki out to sing one of my duets with me."

     Cheers erupted, but Liam continued.

     "Unfortunately, Kiki has a bit of a sore throat."

     The cheers turned to boos as Zayn looked suspiciously toward Kiki. She certainly hadn't just been acting as if her throat was bothering her. Liam went on,

     "In order to make sure she can still perform safely tomorrow, I thought I could bring out a singer who is equally as gorgeous and talented as she is."

     The fans seemed to understand what was going on before Zayn did because they were giving deafening screams prior to Liam's next words.

     "Maybe if we scream Zayn's name loud enough, he'll come to save the day. What do you think?"

     Again, Zayn looked to Kiki as thousands upon thousands of people began calling his name. With a smile, Kiki gave a fake cough and said,

     "Thanks in advance, buddy!"

     Seemingly in shock, Zayn found his legs unwilling to move.

     "Keep screaming," Liam instructed the crowd before popping backstage long enough to wave Zayn foreward.

     "Come on, babe," he said for only Zayn (and Kiki) to hear. He'd left his microphone onstage.

     "You could have warned me!" Zayn said.

     "What fun would that be?"

     When Zayn still didn't move, Liam walked over to the couch he was sitting on and tugged on his hand gently. Finally, Zayn stood.

     Instead of letting go of Zayn's hand once he'd succeeded in getting him to follow him to the stage, Liam laced their fingers together, causing Zayn to freeze again.

     "Liam-," he began, but Liam gave him a reassuring smile.

     "It's okay," he said and hand-in-hand, they emerged from behind the curtain to be met with screams somehow even louder than a moment earlier.

     "I found him," Liam announced unnecessarily once he'd reached his microphone. It was only then that he let go of Zayn's hand. "He was sitting back there, pretending to be shy. Can we get another microphone, please?"

     A worker of the arena brought Zayn a microphone. Zayn thanked him and then looked to Liam, who was smiling at him.

     "Firstly, Zayn, I have to ask, do you know 'Polaroid?'"

     "I think so," Zayn teased. "I could manage it."

     "Alright. How about 'For You?'"

     Zayn did the so-so sign with his hand, but winked. Of course he knew that song. He knew all of Liam's songs.

     "Good enough," Liam decided. To the audience again, he said, "Scream if you want us to sing 'Polaroid!'"

     Liam was going to have some very hoarse-and deaf-fans in the morning, Zayn thought as screams again filled the auditorium.

     "Wow. Alright," Liam said. "Scream if you want us to sing 'For You!'"

     More screams. Zayn rubbed his ear and Liam laughed.

     "Those votes were pretty close," he said. "What do you think, Zayn?"

     "What?" Zayn asked, still rubbing his ear, and Liam laughed again, along with some audience members.

     "I think we're just going to have to sing them both," Liam said, causing a thunderous uproar. "Is that cool with you, Z?"

     Zayn nodded, growing nervous. He wouldn't be a good boyriend if he didn't think Liam to be the superior singer and performer. How was Zayn going to hold up next to him?

     "Do you need the lyrics?" Liam said to Zayn.

     "Nah. I'm just gonna wing it," Zayn teased again.

     "If you insist," Liam said. "Ready..."

     The band decided to play 'Polaroid' first, which was good, because that meant Liam had the first solo. Over all, though, Zayn thought the pair had done exceptionally well, considering they hadn't practiced harmonizing together at all and the original songs were performed with women singing Zayn's parts.  
Whether the performances were perfect or not, the crowd ate it up, though Zayn wondered how much had to do with Liam touching Zayn's waist, cheek, and hair, and looking him up and down like he did with Kiki when he performed with her. Zayn even found that he didn't want to leave the stage when it was time for Liam to get back to his solo songs but, of course, he did.

     "I told you I would get you to do a duet with me one day," Liam said proudly as he and Zayn lay in bed that night.

     "You're lucky you're good at pouting," Zayn said.

     "But we sound so good together!" Liam said. "And we look good together..."

     Liam rolled from his back to his stomach so that he could better lean over and kiss Zayn. Then, he said,

     "Too bad we can't make babies. They would be gorgeous."

    "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Payne! It's a litle too early for the baby talk, don't you think?"

     "I'm not trying to have the baby talk," Liam said. "I just meant that if we could have biological children together, they'd be beautiful."

     "Obviously," Zayn said. Liam smiled and then kissed Zayn again before rolling once more to his back. Zayn had closed his eyes and was nearly asleep when Liam said,

     "Do you want kids someday, though?"

      "Liam."

     "Okay, sorry."

     Liam and Zayn were both woken to the sounds of someone rapping on the door the next morning. Liam snorted in confusion as he sat up, and Zayn flinched so hard he nearly jumped out of bed.

     "Whozzit?" Liam asked softly, as if Zayn would have the answer. When he shook his head, Liam rubbed his eyes but seemed to be given no choice when the knocks came again and he got out of bed, almost losing his balance twice as he headed to the door. Zayn hoped he looked through the peephole before he answered, but luckily, it was Liam's manager followed by his tour manager and publicist.

     "Morning, Liam," the manager said and then, glancing to Zayn, "Oh, good. You're here too. We can talk to you both at once."

     "What's going on?" Liam asked, rubbing his eyes again as he sat next to Zayn's feet. Liam yawned, but Zayn was too nervous to feel very tired anymore.

     "We needed to talk to you before check out," his manager continued.

     "About...?"

     "It looks like you're getting what you wanted."

     "What do you mean?"

     "All your antics with Zayn are causing quite the freak out," Liam's publicist spoke up. The corners of Liam's mouth twitched.

     "They ship us," he said.

     "Yes, but some people think you're using that to your advantage. They think you're straight, but that you're playing with Zayn's feelings, and the feelings of his LGBT fans."

     "I'm not," Liam said, his smile quickly turning to a frown.

     "Obviously. How are they supposed to know that, though, when you've never before shown signs that you may be part of the same community?" his manager said. "They think you're...Oh, what's the word again?"

     "Queer baiting," the publicist answered.

     "I never wanted that," Liam said. His frown had grown deeper and Zayn wanted to hold his hand, but thought it might be an inappropriate time.

     "I know," the publicist said. "But I'm not really sure how to do damage control here unless you come out and announce that you're dating Zayn."

     Liam looked at Zayn and smiled. Zayn returned the grin, but couldn't help still feeling nervous. He told himself that Liam wasn't like him; that he was strong enough to be publicly gay. Still, he felt as if part of Liam had to feel the same guilt and shame Zayn did whenever he met someone new and they greeted him with a fake smile and polite handshake, the knowledge that he was gay in the back of their minds the whole time.

     "Zayn, we already talked to Martin," Liam's manager told him. "Shockingly, he said this is fine with him, if that's what you want."

     That wasn't shocking to Zayn, but of course he wasn't going to tell the others that.

     "Is this truly what you want?" Zayn asked Liam, who nodded without hesitation.

     "It is," Liam said. "Do you want to?"

     "Why wouldn't I want to brag to the world about my amazing man?"

     Liam grinned and looked, for just a moment, to be on the verge of getting emotional, but he blinked and composed himself. His team acted as if they'd noticed nothing.

     "Alright then," his manager said slowly, as if he were already having regrets over this conversation. "How do you want to do it?"

     "I want to upload this picture," Liam answered as if he'd already pondered the question himself. Taking his phone from the nightstand, he showed his team the picture he and Zayn had taken the previous day behind the tree. "I'll put a cute song lyric as a caption and that will be that. It's simple, but it gets the message across, and then later I can release a better statement; one that we maybe work on together. And maybe I can do it during an interview and Zayn can come with me and say what he wants to say, since he never really got a chance to come out or do anything on his own terms."

     Looking at Zayn, Liam said mournfully,

     "You never even got to make a statement."

     "My breakdown was my statement," Zayn said with a humorless laugh. "You can't send a message much clearer than that."

     "We're in this together," Liam told him matter-of-factly.

     "Okay," his manager said. "You can post the picture and a song lyric, but do not reply to anyone's comments or post anything else about it until we have a more solid plan. Understood?"

     "Yes," Liam said, his voice quivering, but Zayn thought it was from excitement.

    "If worst comes to worst and we want to back out, we could always say the photo is edited and Liam's account was hacked," the publicist decided.

     "I'm not going to want to do that," Liam said, and his team looked mildly disappointed.

      "Get on with it, then," the manager said. "I'm warning you now, though, your relationship isn't going to be just yours anymore."

     "They'll see what we want them to see," Liam said, smiling at Zayn again, as if he were the most precious creature he'd ever laid eyes on.

     "You're so optimistic," his manager said grimly. Liam seemed unbothered, and messed around on his phone. Zayn had an inkling he was already posting the picture.

     "We'll talk soon," his publicist said, and Liam gave an uncaring goodbye as his team saw themselves out.

     "Are you sure you're ready for this?" Zayn asked his boyfriend.

     "Guess I have to be, don't I?" Liam replied, showing him the uploaded picture that was already quickly gaining likes and comments of shock and adoration. Underneath, was the caption,

      _I'll be yours for a thousand lives <3_

    In lieu of making his own post just yet, Zayn liked Liam's post and commented the heart eyed emoji. It would be harder to go and say Liam's account was hacked now, he realized too late, but he believed Liam when he said he wouldn't want that, and neither did Zayn. It felt good, sharing a relationship with the world only when he was ready. He was even proud to be seen in such an intimate pose with Liam, even though they were both men, and that felt damn good too.

     And it felt good, albeit bittersweet, when he received a message from the Instagram account of one of his youngest sister's friends that said,

    _You and Liam are so cute!!! I don't think there's anything wrong with being gay, and there's nothing wrong with you. Miss you and love you!-Safaa_


	14. Scripted pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooooo sorry that I haven't posted in forever. I've been really sick and so the quality of my writing wasn't good at all, when I could bring myself to write. I've had this chapter half done forever, but since it's been so long, I decided to post what I have so I can start fresh on a new chapter this week. With that being said, I'm sorry if this chapter seems incomplete and not very good, but I'm going to try to make it up to you! Thank you all for being patient and I won't make you wait so long for the next chapter ;)

_Liam's second single did even better than his first. By that point, his team was rushing to finish and release his full-length album and they even managed to secure Liam a spot on a couple early morning talk shows. Once his face got out more, his success quickly improved; naturally, since Liam was gorgeous, charismatic, and everything a pop star should be._

_Zayn, who had been forced to spend most of his time in California (his label wanted to hurry with a new album as well, now that Liam was rising up on the charts) didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he missed Liam. The theme of Zayn's new songs that he'd been writing were much darker and slower than before, to the point where Martin had bluntly told him to 'quit with the whiny shit and write about sex.'_

_Luckily for Zayn, he had plenty to say on that topic too. He would take a long weekend sometimes to go see Liam, or he would fly Liam to him. Neither could ever stay long, but the knowledge that their time was so fleeting made their love-making all the better._

_Zayn refused to cry when they parted ways, even though he sometimes wanted to because that would mean he had deeper feelings for Liam than lust and friendship, which he absolutely did not. He was mentally unbalanced, was all._

_Though Zayn had never doubted that Liam would excel in the music industry, the success of his first album surprised even him. It had even gained a small bit of attention in America, and so Liam decided it was time to move and find a good team; one that could handle the amount of success that now even Liam couldn't deny was heading his way._

_Even with his newfound fame and reasonably larger salary, the recent days of being poor and working in a mall were fresh in Liam's mind and he spent his money wisely; almost too wisely, Zayn thought when he visited Liam in his Los Angeles apartment and saw, with horror, the conditions his friend had accepted living in. The water tasted funny, his neighbors didn't know how to speak without yelling, and there was more often than not a strange smell in the hallway leading to Liam's unit. After only a bit of pushing, Liam agreed to temporarily move in with Zayn, who would never tell the man how nice it was to go home to him. It had nothing to do with the fact that Liam put dinner on the table almost every night or that he would do the laundry before Zayn had a chance to touch it. Zayn didn’t expect these things-a fact he made sure Liam knew-and they weren't what Zayn liked about having him there. He simply enjoyed his company; hearing him laugh when he read something funny or saw a humorous bit on television. He liked hearing Liam sing in the shower; choruses that were often interrupted by explicatives when he dropped a soap or shampoo bottle. Zayn typically woke before Liam, and he enjoyed the way his heart fluttered when he heard the other's footsteps coming downstairs in the morning. Zayn would often be making coffee or tea while cooking breakfast and Liam would wrap his arms around the man's waist, kiss his shoulder and say, "Morning, handsome." Zayn liked not having to sleep alone._

_Zayn and Liam were sitting on opposite ends of the couch-Zayn writing yet another song about his and Liam's sex life, which would later be called 'Talk to Me' and Liam reviewing his notes and pamphlets from different management agencies while trying to make a final decision on who to sign with-when Liam asked,_

_"What about your manager?"_

_"What about him?!" Zayn asked, surprising himself by sounding defensive, but if Liam noticed, he didn't say anything. He glanced to the notebook Zayn was writing in, probably chalking his sudden grumpiness up to Zayn's creative process being interrupted, but decided to continue speaking anyway._

_"He helped you cross over to the States pretty quickly, didn't he?"_

_"Yeah, but you don't want to work with him," Zayn said._

_"Why not?"_

_Before replying, Zayn had to take a moment. He didn’t know why he was suddenly angry at Liam, but he was still thinking rationally enough to know it wasn't deserved._

_When he felt he could answer in a calm manner, Zayn said,_

_"He's a proper dick. You have so many great options, Li. You don't need to settle for him."_

_"Why have you stuck with him for so long, then?" Liam questioned. To Zayn, his tone sounded rather accusatory, and, his vision blurring, Zayn promptly excused himself without answering. He locked himself in the bathroom, stripped his clothes off, and climbed into the shower, refusing to look in the large mirror over the sink for fear of seeing filth all over his body. Zayn washed himself until his skin was red and sensitive to even a mild touch and then he put on his largest hoodie along with a pair of unappealing joggers._

_Liam stared at him, worry written all over his face, when Zayn re-entered the living room. It didn't appear as if he'd moved since Zayn went upstairs, though Zayn knew he'd had to._

_"Sorry," Zayn said weakly underneath Liam's intensive gaze. "Sick."_

_Immediately, Liam slipped into caretaker mode. He carried Zayn upstairs to bed, took his temperature, and set medicine and water on his nightstand. When tears welled in Zayn's eyes, he coughed, hoping that would excuse their watering because if Liam knew he was hurting Zayn whenever he touched his raw skin (even through clothes), he would probably cry._

_Liam never mentioned signing with Martin again._

Zayn knew there was no room for jealousy in love, but he couldn't help to feel exactly that when he saw the grace Liam had upon coming out. The nice comments made him smile and the rude (and sometimes downright nasty) ones rolled off his shoulder with no more than a light shrug. Most people were supportive, especially after other celebrities such as Gianna, Niall, Louis, and Thomas Clover offered their congratulations. Still, it was the bad comments-the ones calling them disgusting, sinners, or worse, that stuck with Zayn and kept sending him to the bathroom to wash his hands.

            "Babe, stop," Liam said, gently grabbing Zayn around the middle and pulling him down onto his lap. "I know you don't have to piss that much."

            "Maybe my stomach hurts," Zayn said but Liam gave him a look that clearly relayed that he wasn't buying it.

            "You're trying to wash away something that's inside; a feeling," Liam said. "But you're not dirty-physically or morally."

            "But it feels like it," Zayn said, hating how weak and pathetic he sounded.

            "I know," Liam said, and he didn't, but Zayn didn't argue.

            "Where's your medication?" Liam asked.

            "On my bus," Zayn said. He'd chosen to join Liam on his bus for their ride to France. "Are you trying to tell me I'm acting crazy?"

            Zayn was joking-trying to lighten the mood-but Liam didn't seem to notice.

            "No," he said. "I just think it will help you feel better if you start taking it regularly."

            "Yeah, probably," Zayn said, though in all honesty, he hadn't noticed a decrease in symptoms on his medication. All he'd noticed was an increased ability to hide his symptoms from others.

            To Liam, he said,

            "I'll get them when we stop."

            Inexplicably, Zayn's good mood kept fizzling out more and more throughout the day and it hit rock bottom when his phone rang later that evening and he saw Martin's name shining up at him from the screen. Zayn didn't want to answer but felt the need to know what gave the manager the right to call him when he'd told him not to.

            "What?!" Zayn greeted. It was a pleasant hello compared to what he wanted to say.

            "Calm down, it's about business."

            "Don't fucking tell me to calm down," Zayn muttered, but kept his voice low so Liam wouldn't hear from the kitchen area of the bus. Zayn had gone to the bedroom to take the call.

            "You're a pistol, you know that?" Martin replied with a chuckle.

            "Sorry, I've got to go," Zayn, seeing red, seethed. "I've got to phone some sources and tell them about this Hollywood manager who has a filthy obsession with teenage boys."

            "Alright, alright," Martin said hastily. "No need to get nasty. I was only calling to see if you needed help writing your statement."

            "Statement?"

            "You and Liam are being interviewed next week and his team was under the impression you had something you needed to say."

            "The interview is set?" Zayn asked, his stomach flipping nervously. He'd known that had been the plan-for him and Liam to go on a talk show and discuss being gay (though why it needed an explanation, Zayn didn't know.) He hadn't been aware the plan was set in stone, though, and he sat on the bed, trying to pay attention to what Martin was saying through the ringing in his ears.

            "Liam's team just made a deal. We'll be flying you both to New York on Sunday for your interview Monday morning."

            "Oh."

            "That's why I was calling," Martin explained again. "So, what would you like to say?"

            "I don't know yet," Zayn replied. There was so much he wanted to say but didn't know if he would be brave enough to say any of it once the time came.

            "Zayn..."

            "I'm not going to say anything about you; not under those circumstances," Zayn assured the other. "I'll figure it out on my own."

            With that, Zayn hung up the phone. To his surprise, Martin didn't call back.

            When Zayn walked, halfway numb, to the kitchen area, Liam was sitting at the table with his untouched sandwich in front of him, speaking to someone on the phone. There was a sandwich set out for Zayn too, and the singer wrinkled his nose at it, but sat down.

            "Yeah, okay, got it," Liam said to whoever was on the phone. After a hesitation, he hung up and placed the phone on the table next to his plate. He still didn't move to take a bite of sandwich; just looked at Zayn, neither speaking for a few seconds. Finally, Liam looked at least half as nervous as Zayn felt.

            "The interview is Monday," Liam told his boyfriend unnecessarily.

            "Martin's just told me," Zayn said. "We fly out Sunday."

            "Yeah."

            "Yeah."

            Instead of staring at each other, the two turned their gazes to the food sitting in front of them. Zayn knew there wouldn't be anything in the sandwich that he didn't like-Liam was an expert on his taste by now-but he still kind of wanted to gag looking at it. Liam took a measly bite out of his own before grimacing and setting it back down on the plate.

            "Do you regret anything _now_?" Zayn asked softly, and Liam reached across the table to take one of Zayn's hands in his.

            "No," he said, his own voice strong. "Of course I don't regret anything. I just think it's shit that we have to say anything at all."

            "Yeah," Zayn agreed, but then rationalized, "I guess it would be confusing to people, though, when I was supposedly a womanizer and you've recently gotten out of an apparent long-term relationship with a woman."

            "So?" Liam asked rhetorically. "Bisexuals exist. Of course, neither of us _are_ bisexual, but why do they need to know that? Why do they need to know exactly how we identify?"

            "Does that mean they're letting you say you're gay, then?" Zayn asked, remembering that Liam had mentioned possibly having to tell the public he was bi or that he didn't identify with any particular orientation.

            "I don't know yet," Liam said. ""They told me they would make their decision by tomorrow."

            "That's bullshit," Zayn said, his voice sounding defeated instead of angry, as he'd hoped. "You're coming out and they still might not let you tell your truth?"

            "Yeah."

            Liam sighed, but then smiled and gave Zayn's hand a light squeeze.

            "How are you feeling, though?"

            "Would you like the truth?"

            "Always."

            "I'm freaking the fuck out."

            Liam nodded, looking as if he understood. Zayn supposed he did, somewhat. The parts he couldn't understand were Zayn's own fault.

            "You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Liam said, and verified, "the show, I mean. I shouldn't have assumed you wanted to say anything just because you were prematurely outed."

            "I want to," Zayn said. "That doesn't make it any less terrifying, though."

            "Just remember, Z; this is your moment. You can say all you want, but no more and no less. The only person you owe anything to is yourself."

            Despite still feeling as if multiple snakes were writhing around inside of him, the corners of Zayn's mouth turned up just a bit.

            "No," he said with a slight shake of his head, and Liam frowned.

            "No?"

            "It's not my moment," Zayn explained. "It's our moment."

            Though the nerves were still present during the following days, Zayn noticed that they were somewhat muted most of the time. He didn't know if it was because he spent nearly every waking moment performing or with Liam, or if his medications truly were helping, but he was able to regain most of the happiness he'd felt that very first day he and Liam had decided to be together.

            In Paris, Liam had Kiki take a picture of him and Zayn in front of the Eiffel Tower. Liam was behind Zayn with his arms around his waist and Zayn was smiling widely; his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Liam had captioned it,

            _What a perfect time to visit the City of Love._

Realizing that Liam now had several pictures of the pair on his page and Zayn had one, Zayn then took Liam on the carousel, where he captured a selfie-styled photograph of himself on his horse with Liam in the background on his own. It was less romantic than the ones Liam had uploaded, with Zayn's tongue sticking out and Liam nearly falling off his horse from how far he was leaning over, attempting to give Zayn bunny ears with a big, childish grin on his face, but Zayn felt they were still well portrayed as the best friends they were, which would always be the foundation to their relationship.

            The fans had so enjoyed Zayn and Liam's duets on the night Kiki had come down with a 'sore throat’ that Liam now performed one of his two duets with Kiki and one with Zayn each night. They switched up who performed which to keep things interesting, but they were all met with loud applause no matter which way it went.

            Instead of going home for a few days after their next three shows, as they'd originally been planning to do, Liam and Zayn found themselves on a private jet going to New York City. Zayn was glad Liam's team had loaned them a jet instead of forcing them onto a plane because now that they were only a few hours away from their interview, the nerves had struck ten-fold and Zayn thought he may have another mental breakdown if he had to socialize with anyone but Liam.

            The pair tried to sleep, as they were sure to be jetlagged in the morning, but it seemed there was not much sleep to be had. They tossed and turned as if they were feverish. Finally, Liam admitted defeat and went to watch a film on the couch. He, of course, invited Zayn along, but Zayn said he was going to lay in bed and try to fall asleep for just a little longer. Soon, though, the shadows in the corner of the room started moving and changing form, and Zayn hurried to the couch, where he melted into Liam's tight embrace and eventually fell asleep.

            "Hey, Li?" Zayn asked timidly the next morning as the two ate breakfast in their hotel room. Liam's management team had only felt the need to book one room, which was fine, naturally.

            "Yeah, babe?" Liam asked, buttering his toast before taking a bite. Zayn wasn't sure how he was managing to eat, but figured that was just another example of how Liam would never fail to amaze him.

            "I need to tell you something."

            Zayn's heart was pounding painfully. He didn't want to do this, but Liam deserved to know who he was dating. After everything Liam had done for him, the least Zayn could do was tell him the truth. That was the only thing Liam ever requested from him, and Zayn was going to show Liam he cared enough to give it to him, no matter how much it scared him to do so or the amount of pain he may feel afterward.

            "Anything, love," Liam said, smiling at Zayn in what was probably supposed to be a reassuring manner. As Liam took another bite of toast, Zayn swallowed against the lump in his throat.

            "I was only with one person before you," Zayn began.

            "I figured you weren't very experienced," Liam commented nonchalantly. Zayn wasn't quite sure how to take that remark, but he pushed it from his mind and continued.

            "It was someone I shouldn't have been with," Zayn informed his boyfriend, who quirked an eyebrow, finally looking interested.

            "Oh?"

            "Yeah. It was...it was..."

            Zayn didn't actually hear himself say Martin's name. He must have gone into a trance-like state in a weak effort to protect himself from all the ways that simple name made him feel. He could tell the moment he spoke it, though, because Liam's face morphed into something Zayn had never seen before. He was disgusted-repulsed-and dropped Zayn's hand like he had roaches crawling on his skin.

            "Liam-" Zayn tried, but his boyfriend rose to his feet and put up a hand, silencing Zayn.

            "We're done here," Liam said coldly, and he walked around Zayn; making sure to keep his distance as he headed to the door.

            "But, Liam, please!"

            "Enough, Zayn!"

            "I thought you wanted the truth!"

            "I did and I thank you for telling me that this whole time I've been with a-"

            "Please don't say it."

            "Filthy, disgusting, sorry excuse for a man."

            In the next instant, Liam was out the door. Zayn stood frozen in place for who really knew how long. His chest felt frozen. His lungs stung as if he were breathing icicles into them but, finally, he found he was able to move and he ran out of the hotel room, shouting Liam's name. It was a pathetic site, surely. Zayn's cheeks were slick with tears, but he didn't care. He had no pride left to lose.

            "Li-"

            Zayn stopped when the hotel door clicked shut and, with it, out went the lights.

            "Liam?" Zayn whispered for he could feel someone watching him in the darkness. The voice that answered, however, was not that of the man he'd just laid his deepest, darkest secret in front of. This voice was much more menacing. The hair on the back of Zayn's neck stood up.

            "Silly boy," the voice said and suddenly, Zayn's arms were pinned above his head and his shirt was ripped from his body. Zayn screamed, but even that didn't drain out the words that had been seared into his brain to become the theme of his life. “No one is going to love you now, dirty boy.”

            “Zayn! Zayn! _Zayn_! Wake up.”

            Cold water touched Zayn’s face and with a gasp, he opened his eyes. He was on the ground, though he couldn’t quite figure out where, and Liam was knelt over him, holding Zayn’s arms gently above his head.

            “Liam!” Zayn gasped, sitting up as he felt the other man release the pressure from his arms. “You came back! I’m so sorry, Li! I swear I didn’t want to.”

            “What are you talking about?” Liam asked, the frown on his face so deep that he suddenly looked a few years older. “I haven’t gone anywhere, Z. We’re kind of stuck on a jet plane, remember?”

            “Wha-what?” Zayn asked. He realized he was shaking and suddenly noted that he was freezing. When he crossed his arms, he felt bare skin. “Where’s my shirt?”

            “I took it off you,” Liam explained. “I think you’ve got a fever. You were sweating like crazy and talking in your sleep. You were clearly having a nightmare, but I couldn’t wake you up for anything. You started thrashing and scratching and…God, I thought you were having some kind of seizure or something.”

            “You…You didn’t just tell me I was disgusting?” Zayn asked, tearing up. Perhaps he _did_ have a fever after all, because he was suddenly quite emotional.

            “No,” Liam said. “Of course not. Why would I tell you that?”

            Zayn shrugged. Spilling his soul to Liam hadn’t gone well in his nightmare-ish dream, but now that Zayn knew it hadn’t been real, he was going to count his blessings and carry on with his secret.

            “I don’t know…I’m okay.”

            Seeing Zayn start to stand (he was still unsure how he’d ended up on the floor), Liam rose quickly to his feet and helped his boyfriend get steady on his wobbly legs. Liam gave Zayn his shirt, which had been abandoned on the couch, and then felt Zayn’s forehead.

            “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’ve got a fever,” Liam said sadly.

            “I’m okay,” Zayn said, though he was ashamed. He’d probably gotten sick because he was so dirty.

            “I’m getting you some medicine and we’re going to bed,” Liam decided. Zayn didn’t argue, but he was going to do everything he could to not fall asleep again.

 


	15. Scripted pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all mistakes are the responsibility of wine since I was finally given the okay to drink again!!! Plus, wine breaks my writer's block (though I don't recommend this method) and my betas are unavailable at the moment, so pardon me if my tipsy and dyslexic self missed a vital error.

            _It had been over a month since Zayn had seen Liam. Their respective careers kept dragging them to opposite sides of the globe, and even though they sent each other at least one text a day and talked on the phone once a week at a minimum, it wasn’t enough to stop Zayn from missing Liam. It wasn’t like seeing his face._

_That was why Zayn couldn’t stop smiling the day of the live Christmas Eve special he and Liam were both set to perform at. Finally, Zayn would get to see that gorgeous face in person again, for at least a few minutes. He wasn’t sure what Liam’s schedule looked like after that, but Zayn hoped they would get to spend the night together, or at least a few hours of the night in the same bed. Zayn didn’t even care if they had sex or not. He just wanted to lie next to Liam and feel his body heat on this cold Winter night._

_The more time that passed without Liam’s arrival, the more concerned Zayn became. Had something happened to his plane? Was his flight delayed? Why wasn’t he answering Zayn’s texts? When he called, the phone went straight to voice mail._

            _At first, Zayn tried to play it cool. He didn’t ask about Liam or mention him. It was frustrating watching everyone else carry on normally, as if no one was missing from the set. Finally, Zayn found someone who looked nearly as frantic as he felt. It was unfortunate that the person was Martin, but if he had information on Liam, Zayn would gladly communicate with his manager._

_“Hey,” Zayn and Martin said at the exact same time, as they had been walking toward each other. Zayn didn’t give Martin a chance to speak what was on his mind before he said,_

_“Do you know where Liam is?”_

_“That’s actually what I was getting ready to talk to you about,” Martin said. Every terrible thing that could have happened to Liam flashed by in Zayn’s head by the time Martin opened his mouth to speak again._

_“He’s at home sick. They need someone to cover his spot on the show, and they’re hoping for you. I know you’ve already got a fairly big set, but will you do it, Zaynie?”_

_Instead of answering, Zayn asked another question._

_“Sick with what?”_

_“I don’t know,” Martin told him impatiently. “I didn’t care to ask. Will you take his spot or not?”_

_“Yes.”_

_It would have brought Zayn pleasure to tell Martin no and give the spot to someone else, but he thought, if Liam were to be watching at home, it would make him feel a little better seeing Zayn performing in place of him._

_“Great,” Martin said. “We’re working on your set list now. Don’t go far.”_

_Without another word, Zayn’s manager spun on his heel and hurried away. Zayn tried to call Liam one more time but, again, the call went straight to voicemail._

_The show went well, Zayn thought. Though there were many disappointed fans when they found out that Liam wouldn’t be performing, they seemed to enjoy Zayn’s surprise set list well enough. Zayn wanted to give a shout out to his friend on the air, but then he remembered that they were supposed to be enemies and so he didn’t._

_There was an after party when the show was over, but Zayn skipped it. He didn’t let anyone know he was leaving; just got into the backseat of his car and instructed his driver on where to go._

_Liam’s house was decorated for Christmas, with lit up candy canes leading the pathway up to his door. Zayn rang the man’s doorbell and waited impatiently for some sign that the other man was in there and alive. After a minute, he rang the doorbell again and was just turning around to walk to his car, defeated, when the door opened and there stood Liam._

_“Hey!” Zayn said, a little too enthusiastically. “It’s good to see you. I mean, I was just coming by to see if you were alright. I heard you were sick, and you weren’t answering my calls, so I was quite worried…How are you doing? What’s wrong?”_

_Liam didn’t verbally reply. Instead, he waved Zayn in, shut the door, and wordlessly headed to the kitchen. Zayn followed, watching as Liam began heating up some tea. With a cough, Liam took out his phone and began typing. Next, a robotic voice said,_

_**I can’t talk. Laryngitis.**_

**** _Zayn sucked in a breath sympathetically._

_“Aw, babe, I’m sorry.”_

_“It’s okay,” Liam said through use of his app. “It just sucks because I know my fans hate me now.”_

_“They don’t hate you,” Zayn told him. “They may have been disappointed, but I’m sure they’re more worried about you than anything. You can’t help that you’re sick and true fans will understand that.”_

_“I know. I just hate letting people down.”_

_“I know you do, but being you, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to them.”_

_Liam made his best attempt at a smile and took his tea kettle off the stove as it started hissing. He poured himself a glass and then silently offered one to Zayn, who accepted._

_“You did great, though,” the robot voice coming from Liam’s phone told Zayn. Liam typed something and then verified, “both times.”_

_“Thank you,” Zayn said. “I wasn’t sure if you were watching or not.”_

_“Of course I was,” Liam said. “You’re the best medicine.”_

_Zayn laughed and rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t pretend he didn’t appreciate Liam’s words. After taking a sip of his tea, Zayn hummed, content, before asking,_

_“Is there anything you need? You have enough food and medicine and such?”_

_“I’m fine,” Liam assured Zayn. “Wish I could kiss you.”_

_“Why can’t you?”_

_“The Laryngitis may be from a viral infection.”_

_“Oh.”_

_After a brief pause, Zayn said,_

_“Well, I’m on a month’s break, so I say fuck it.”_

_Liam smiled but shook his head as he took a drink from his cup._

_“You should use that month to have fun, not be sick in bed,” he said._

_“I dunno, I think it sounds pretty nice to not have to talk to anyone for a week or two.”_

_Liam laughed, but, again, shook his head._

_“You’re cute, but no,” he made his phone say. Zayn sighed dramatically._

_“Fine,” he said. “Wanna play the Play Station?”_

_Liam agreed, so he and Zayn took their tea cups to the living room to finish sipping on while they played. It only took about an hour for Liam to grow so tired that he began falling asleep mid-game, so Zayn turned it off and suggested they go to bed. Liam was so worn out that he didn’t even tell Zayn he shouldn’t snuggle with him as close as he was in bed on the chance that he would get sick._

_“Good morning,” Zayn greeted cheerily the moment Liam opened his eyes the next morning. “Happy Christmas.”_

_“Happy Christmas,” Liam croaked, his voice barely audible. He winced and rubbed his eyes as Zayn straddled him, a smile on his face._

_“What are you so cheery about already?” Liam asked, his voice cutting in and out. Zayn shushed him, but then pointed to the mistletoe he’d hung above Liam while the other had been asleep. Liam narrowed his eyes, but Zayn could tell he was fighting a smile._

_“We can’t,” he said._

_“We have to,” Zayn reasoned. “Otherwise, we’re breaking a sacred Christmas rule.”_

_“You really want a viral infection for Christmas this year, huh?” Liam asked, ignoring the fact that he still should not be talking._

_“So what if I do?” Zayn said. “It’s not your job to judge. It’s simply your job to give me what I want”_

_Liam snorted, and pulled back lightly as Zayn tugged on his shirt, trying to get him to sit up._

_“I just woke up,” Liam said. “I haven’t even brushed my teeth.”_

_“I don’t care.”_

_“You’re ridiculous,” Liam commented, but stopped fighting against Zayn and let himself be pulled into a sitting position. Zayn even saw his eyes close a millisecond before his own, and both made a hum of approval when their lips met._

_“The perfect Christmas present,” Zayn commented once they broke apart._

_“I guess if that’s all you wanted, I can take your other present back, huh?” Liam, finally deciding to use his phone app, asked._

_“No,” Zayn said. “Why don’t you shower while I make some breakfast and then we can exchange our other presents?”_

Zayn hated the way Liam kept looking at him the next day; so full of worry and caution, like he could have a breakdown at any moment. That might have been true, but Zayn was trying his best to hold himself together and thought it might be easier if the look in Liam’s eyes didn’t keep telling him he was weak. Zayn knew his boyfriend wasn’t meaning to look at him that way, but it didn’t change the fact that he was.

            If Zayn had been down with a fever the previous night, it was gone by the time Liam gained access to a thermometer the next day. Zayn didn’t think he had been on the verge of getting an infection or anything of that sort. Rather, his nightmare had worked him into a feverish frenzy, which did nothing to help Zayn feel sane either.

            “You don’t have to do this, Z,” Liam told his boyfriend for what felt like the millionth time as the two prepared to leave their hotel room and head to the studio. Taking a deep, yet subtle breath, fighting against his urge to shout, Zayn told Liam, once again,

            “I want to.”

            He added,

            “My anxiety is just at an all-time high right now.”

            The first statement may have been a lie, but the second certainly was not. The truth was, Zayn didn’t want to go on national television and try to defend the one thing he hated most about himself. He simply felt as if it was the best option, as not saying anything would allow him to keep being painted as the bad, weak individual that he knew he was. Zayn was an actor, even when there was no one around to witness his scenes, and if he couldn’t make himself believe or become the man he wanted to be, he would at least try to make others see in him what wasn’t there.

            At the mention of his anxiety, Liam gave Zayn a sympathetic look, which didn’t help matters, but Zayn didn’t say so. Liam was trying his best and part of Zayn’s duties as a boyfriend was to make Liam happy, even when he couldn’t do it for himself.

            Forcing a smile, Zayn hopped up on his toes to give Liam a quick kiss on the cheek.

            “Aren’t you nervous?” he asked the other, downplaying his own feelings, as always.

            “Well, yeah,” Liam admitted.

            “We’ll get through it,” Zayn said. “And no matter what happens after, as long as we’ve made peace with ourselves, we’ll be alright.”

            “We’re going to be fine,” Liam said determinedly, and gave Zayn a kiss on the lips. “I’m proud that you’re mine and I can’t wait for the world to know it.”

            “I’m glad I’m yours too,” Zayn said, which was true.

 

            Zayn was shaking before going on the air, but Liam held his hand and guided him to the couch they were to share so that his jelly legs weren’t noticeable to anyone but himself. The crowd was cheering-Zayn didn’t hear any booing, even though he was listening for it-but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure when the ringing in his ears gave everything else a muffled sort of sound.

            “Wow!” a woman’s voice exclaimed, and Zayn blinked a few times, rapidly, to bring himself into focus. Liam’s arm brushed against his, though when Zayn glanced at him, his boyfriend was staring intently at the lady interviewer who had spoken, so Zayn wasn’t sure whether he had meant to touch him or not.

            The woman continued,

            “You two are even more gorgeous in person than I imagined! Is there any kind of music award for cutest couple?”

            “I don’t think so,” Liam answered while Zayn, somewhat belatedly, remembered to smile. Liam said, “Everyone looks better next to Zayn though. His beauty is so strong that it radiates to everyone around him.”

            “You’re such a cheeseball,” Zayn said, but he thought Liam had gotten what he wanted out of him; a genuine smile and a laugh. For a moment while Liam smiled back at him, Zayn felt as if it was just the two of them in a big, empty room, but the giggles and ‘aw’s of the crowd quickly reminded him that wasn’t the case.

            “It’s good to see you doing well, Zayn,” the same interviewer-Zayn suddenly remembered that her name was Taryn-commented. He knew she probably meant well by the statement, but it just went to bring back the memories of the time Zayn wasn’t doing well, and his face turned hot. It felt like everyone in the room was staring at him, and he wished wardrobe hadn’t put him in a sweater.

            “Thanks,” he said, feeling thankful that his voice was stronger than he would have thought possible.

            “You’re welcome. You’re still on the path of recovery, then?”

            It took Zayn a moment more than it should have to realize that Taryn was referencing only his substance use and not the way he felt inside.

            “Oh, yeah,” he said, almost off-handedly. “I haven’t touched drugs or alcohol since leaving rehab.”

            Zayn startled when the crowd broke into a round of applause, and he somehow grew even more embarrassed. Liam gave a quick clap, then rubbed Zayn’s back, offering a reassuring smile that comforted Zayn slightly.

            “That’s great!” Taryn said, sounding a little too excited over Zayn’s sobriety. “I’m so proud of you, as I know all of your fans are.”

            “Thank you,” Zayn said again, and then prayed they turned the attention to Liam.

            “You must be so proud of him too, right?” Taryn asked Liam, which wasn’t exactly what Zayn had been praying for, but he supposed he should have been more specific.

            “Of course,” Liam said. “I’m proud of him for a lot of things, and especially how he isn’t letting that brief period of darkness define him. Plus, have you heard him on tour? His voice is phenomenal!”

            Zayn wasn’t sure if Taryn understood Liam’s method of getting them to change the subject, but even so, it worked. As she began questioning Liam about the tour, Zayn breathed a subtle sigh of relief and hoped Liam could feel the gratitude he was trying to communicate to him telepathically.

            The questions about the tour were short lived, and Zayn expected they had been inserted simply as a formality. Even though they were singers, no one was thinking about that on this day. Today, it was as if their identity was made up only of one characteristic; the fact that they were gay.

            After ending their tour discussion with the sentiment, “I wish you both the best of luck and wish I could go to a show,” Taryn barely gave the men time to say a polite, ‘thank you,’ before getting back to the true business.

            “So, I know you two are on the same label, but when did you start hanging out?”

            Liam smiled, seeming excited to finally tell their story, and Zayn gave him a nod to say that he could go ahead. He would do a better job of telling it anyway.

            “We’ve actually known each other for a while; since we were eighteen,” Liam said. “I wasn’t even famous then. Actually, I wasn’t even on the road to becoming famous. I was working at a sports store at a mall and attended karaoke night with some of my mates. We were at some slummy, rather questionable bar; pretty much the last place I expected anyone like Zayn to be at, so I didn’t think anything of it when I sang one of his songs. Afterward, he came up to me to tell me I did a good job, and I think I was proper in shock.”

            There were laughs, and even Zayn had to smile at the memory. He had known that night that Liam was destined for great things, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how much the other man would grow to mean to him.

            “That’s very cute, but Zayn, can I ask what you were doing at such a questionable bar?” Taryn prodded.

            “It looked like the type of place where no one would care who I was or what I did for a living. I guess I was wrong.”

            “Very wrong,” Liam commented.

            “Do you think it was fate that you later became label mates?” Taryn asked. Liam replied,

            “That’s actually thanks to Zayn. He helped me get my foot in the door. Without him, I wouldn’t have this career.”

            “I guess it’s fate that he visited that bar, then.”

            “Yeah,” Liam said, smiling softly at Zayn. “I like to think so.”

            Zayn had half a mind to call Liam a cheese ball again, but he didn’t. Whether it was fate or not, Zayn’s best decision had been stepping into that bar all those years ago and helping the amazing boy with little self-confidence realize how great he truly was. Or at least almost. Zayn didn’t think Liam would ever see exactly what everyone else saw in him, but his humbleness was part of his appeal. Zayn was glad he believed in himself, but was also fond of the fact that he had enough self-doubt to resemble the Liam that Zayn had first met and been captured by since the second he’d opened his mouth to sing.

            “When did you two fall in love?” Taryn continued. For the first time, Liam hesitated. Zayn was most definitely not going to take the bait on this one, so he cleared his throat and folded his hands together, smiling innocently at Liam to show that this question was, once again, all his. Liam, along with some audience members, chuckled, and then he began to speak.

            “We haven’t shared those words with each other yet,” Liam said. “I don’t want the first time to be on camera.”

            After a moment, he added,

            “But come on, look at Zayn; how long do you _think_ it took?”

            The crowd ate that up. Zayn’s face burned again, though he didn’t feel embarrassed anymore. He wasn’t quite sure what he felt because he found the whole situation hard to comprehend. Had Liam just admitted he was in love with him? No, surely, he was just playing it up for the audience. That was okay. Zayn didn’t hold it against him, but to be in love with someone, you had to know them inside and out. Liam might have known Zayn pretty well, but he didn’t know everything; therefore, his love couldn’t be unconditional, and conditional love wasn’t true.

            “Fair enough,” Taryn said. “Have you both known about your sexuality for a while then?”

            “I’ve known since puberty, though I think even before then,” Liam said.

            “I was fourteen,” Zayn said. It alarmed him that his voice had sounded robotic, and he cleared his throat. Suddenly remembering the water sitting in front of him, he took a long swallow from the cup.

            “And your sexualities are…?”           

            “Gay,” Zayn said, and after only a brief hesitation and (with a wide smile) Liam said,

            “Gay.”

            Zayn was glad he hadn’t been drinking his water. He remembered Liam telling him that morning that he was supposed to claim to ‘not have a label.’ It wasn’t like Liam to go against his script, and Zayn was about to burst with pride.

            “What about your girlfriends?” Taryn asked. Zayn found himself taking the lead.

            “Some friendships were dramatized for the camera,” he said.

            “Your mutual girlfriend, Gianna; she wasn’t actually a girlfriend, then?”

            “We had fun together and she’s a great woman,” Zayn said. “But, no, we weren’t truly dating.”

            “Which means, then, that you never cheated?”

            “No, I never cheated,” Zayn said, feeling as if part of the weight he’d been feeling was lifted. Only a small part, but still. “Liam has been my only proper relationship and I’ve never-and would never-cheat on him.”

            “Wait, what about Frankie?”

            “The relationship I had with Frankie consisted of exactly what you all saw. I wouldn’t consider that ‘dating,’ but no; I was not involved with anyone else while I was messing around with him.”

            “Interesting…And Liam?”

            “Hm?”

            Liam seemed as if he had to jolt himself back to reality, but he recovered quickly.

            “Oh, yeah. Everyone in the industry has known for a while that I’m gay.”

            “Really?!”

            “Yeah, really.”

            “Wow. I’m sure this will all be a shock to many fans.”

            “I understand that,” Liam said, “but this is who we are and who we want to be. I’m glad I have fans I can be myself around and share the best parts of my life with.”

            The show cut to a commercial break and Zayn hurried off stage, if only to get away from curious eyes for a few minutes. Liam had remained on set, talking to Taryn for a minute, but quickly found Zayn in the bathroom washing his hands. Liam watched him for a few moments, but the second that the last soap sud was rinsed from Zayn’s hands, Liam turned the knobs so that the faucet shut off.

            “You’re doing great,” Liam said, handing Zayn a couple paper towels. “I’m so proud of you.”

            “I’ve barely said anything,” Zayn pointed out. “You’re doing amazing, but aren’t you worried about what they’ll say since you told everyone you’re gay?”

            “Not really,” Liam said. “This interview was so that I could tell the truth. Telling a partial truth is still lying, in my opinion. I’ll deal with whatever comes my way.”

            “You’re amazing,” Zayn sighed, and kissed Liam. The other man pulled Zayn tight against his body and rubbed his back, giving the top of his hair a soft kiss.

            “Thank you for doing this with me,” Liam said. “I know you think I have it all together, but I really don’t. I think I would have already croaked out there if I didn’t keep looking at you to remind myself why I’m doing this.”

            “I still think it’s shit we have to say anything at all,” Zayn commented. “We get on great and we look fucking incredible together, so why does anything else matter?”

            Liam gave a small laugh.

            “I know,” he said. “I mean…I don’t know. But I want the world to know that I’m proud to be me, gay or not, and I’m proud to have you.”

            “When I first realized what was wrong with me-why I was so uncomfortable when people would ask me about girls, or why I couldn’t get turned on when I was twelve and my beautiful thirteen-year-old co-star tried to take me to bed with her, or why I so desperately wished I could play a gay role…When I realized that playing a gay role would mean getting to be myself, I was disgusted. I prayed to change. I was angry at myself, my parents…Anything and everything that I thought could have made me gay. But then I met you and you were so accepting of yourself…You’re going to think I’m a cheese ball now, but it was inspiring. And as we became closer and we started kissing and everything else, I actually felt lucky because if I had been able to pray myself straight, I would have never felt everything I felt whenever I was with you.”

            Zayn wasn’t quite sure where that monologue had come from, but he was alarmed when he looked up and saw tears in Liam’s eyes. Noticing Zayn’s worry, Liam quickly kissed him.

            “I’m okay,” he answered Zayn’s unasked question. “I just hate that you ever felt that way about yourself.”

            After giving Zayn another quick kiss, he said,

            “And, by the way, I’m selfishly glad you weren’t successful in praying the gay away.”

            Zayn laughed, but as he wiped Liam’s eyes, the bathroom door was thrown open and they were told to get back on set.

            “Okay, back to the dark stuff for a minute,” Taryn told her guests after welcoming everyone back to the show. “Zayn, is it true that you and your family are no longer on speaking terms?”

            Zayn felt Liam stiffen beside of him.

            “Yeah, that’s true,” he said. Even though two of his sisters had reached out to him, Doniya hadn’t wanted him to reply and Safaa never said anything back when Zayn messaged her friend’s Instagram account.

            “Do you think your sexuality played a bigger role in the falling out, or was it the substance use?”

            “I wasn’t using substances when we fell out,” Zayn explained. “It was all about my sexuality.”

            “I’m so sorry to hear that. Why do you think you being who you are is so hard for them to accept?”

            “I don’t know. They’ll blame our culture or religion, but that’s simply not the case. There are plenty of people who share the same culture and religion as we do who are open-minded and accepting.”

            “Do you think they’ll ever come around?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Taryn gave Zayn a sympathetic look that was probably all for show. Zayn took another drink of his water and then said, “But it’s kind of hard to be lonely when this guy is your biggest fan.”           

            Liam smiled, though he still wore a concerned expression. Quietly, so that he didn’t know nor care whether the cameras and audience picked it up or not, Zayn said, “Thank God for Liam Payne, huh?”

            The show concluded shortly after that. Taryn gave them a chance at the end to say anything- _anything_ they wanted to say, but Zayn declined, thanking her for the opportunity to come on her show instead. He wasn’t sure why he felt so self-loathing as he headed backstage afterward, but he was soon distracted by a group of rather obnoxious individuals calling-and squealing-his name.

             “Zayn!” Louis, the squealer, exclaimed as he jumped on his friend, having all the faith in the world that Zayn would catch him. Luckily, his faith was well placed. “I’m so proud of you! You did it and you were so strong and professional.”

            “Thanks, Lou,” Zayn said, patting his best friend on the back a couple of times before putting him gently back onto his feet. Niall, Harry, Kiki, and Gianna slowly walked closer as well.

            “You did great, mate,” Niall said.

            “Thank you,” Zayn said, offering Niall a smile and noting how pretty his blue eyes were when they weren’t surrounded by red.

            “That interviewer was wrong, though,” Louis said.

            “About what?” Zayn asked.

            “You haven’t lost contact with all of your family. Your blood relatives may not be around right now, but you’ve got two brothers, two sisters, an amazing future brother-in-law, and a sweet, gorgeous boyfriend right here, and we’re your family too.”

            “Fuck you, Louis,” Zayn said as his eyes threatened to water and his voice quivered. “I’m too tired for your sappy bullshit.”

            Unoffended, Louis simply laughed and pulled Zayn into a hug. Niall joined, but he was the only one. Zayn knew, at that moment, that the others supported him too, but they were allowing him to share a moment for the two guys who had been like brothers to Zayn since he was young. For all intents and purposes, Zayn realized, they were his brothers.

            “Why don’t we go get some brunch to celebrate?” Gianna suggested after the trio’s hug had broken apart. They all agreed, Zayn especially. He’d been too nervous to each much dinner the previous night and he hadn’t even touched breakfast that morning. Now that he thought about it, he was even starting to develop mild hunger pains.

            The group had to hurry with their brunch because soon, guests from the TV show started to file in as well as others who were far too interested in Zayn and Liam’s recent confession. The restaurant staff did their best to keep others away from their area, but it became impossible as time ticked on. After finishing about half of their meals, Niall (who insisted on covering everyone’s bills) paid and they hurried out, the rest of the friends surrounding Zayn and Liam to keep them as secluded from the prying eyes as they could.

            “We did it,” Liam commented once he and Zayn were alone in their hotel room.

            “Yes, we did,” Zayn agreed. “Let’s order some champagne to celebrate, eh?”

            “Very funny.”

            Zayn plopped backwards onto their bed and, unbuttoning his shirt, Liam slid over top of him, first giving him a kiss on the lips and then the chin before traveling to his neck. Zayn moaned, his hands rubbing Liam’s abs before Zayn wrapped his legs around the other’s waist. Liam nipped Zayn’s ear before whispering,

            “Wanna fuck me to sleep?”

            “I would be honored. But, seriously…No champagne?”

            Liam narrowed his eyes and then bopped Zayn’s nose with his pointer finger before giggling.

            “We don’t need it,” he said.

            “Don’t need it,” Zayn agreed. “Want it though. I would have ordered a mimosa at brunch if, one, fans weren’t around, watching for me to fall off the wagon and two, Niall wasn’t recently sober.”

            “You’re doing so well, babe,” Liam said. “You don’t need to throw it away because of a stressful, yet wonderful, day.”

            “I wasn’t addicted to alcohol, Liam,” Zayn sighed. “I was addicted to numbing myself. I can control myself now, I know it.”

            “I’m never going to tell you what to do, Z,” Liam said, “but if you want my opinion, I think it would be a terrible idea.”

            “Fine,” Zayn sighed.

            “I love you.”

            “Shut up and roll over.”


	16. What a Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a flashback! I'm hoping to be back on track with this story by next week, but thank you for your patience!

            _“Did I not tell you that you were going to get sick?!”_

_Zayn nearly jumped out of his skin as Liam’s voice came booming from the entryway and his front door slammed open and then shut. If he could have screamed, he probably would have. All he managed was a slight gasp proceeded by a coughing fit. One day, he would make sure to take Liam’s key from him. (Except he knew that he wouldn’t.)_

_As Liam rounded the corner, Zayn was just finishing his coughing fit and he narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to telepathically inform him that this was his fault. Liam’s expression remained completely unsympathetic._

_“I hope you like your Christmas gift,” Liam commented. Still glaring, Zayn picked his phone up from the couch next to him and, using the same robotic speaking app that Liam had used when he’d had laryngitis, he told the other man,_

_“It’s not as great as I thought it would be.”_

_Liam rolled his eyes._

_“I’ll never understand how your OCD-ass wanted to be kissed by an actively ill person.”_

_“I don’t have OCD,” Zayn claimed. “And it’s your fault for being so damn beautiful.”_

_Fighting a smile, Liam rolled his eyes again. After taking a doctor’s mask from his back pocket and putting it on, he sat next to his friend on the couch._

_“You act like I’m diseased,” Zayn said through his app._

_“You are,” Liam reminded him. Zayn supposed he had a point._

_“What are you doing here?” he asked the other singer. “Aren’t you on tour?”_

_“I was on holiday break,” Liam said. “I’m leaving again tomorrow.”_

_“Then shouldn’t you be packing or something other than hanging out with your diseased fuck buddy?”_

_“Fuck buddy…Ouch. Is that all I am to you?”_

_Zayn smiled innocently, knowing that Liam was aware he was much more than that._

_“You’re paying for that one,” Liam said, after he’d had to spend a few moments trying not to smile again._

_“How so?” Zayn asked, wishing the robot could sound a bit more flirtatious than it did. Wordlessly, Liam took the television remote from Zayn’s lap (brushing against his sad, sick dick in the process) and opened one of his movie accounts. Zayn’s show had just ended, so he didn’t mind all that much until he saw what film Liam chose, and he let out a groan which, again, led to a coughing fit._

_“Drink,” Liam instructed when Zayn finished coughing and looked at him through watery eyes. His friend had managed to go to the kitchen and get Zayn a glass of water by the time he’d gotten himself under control, and Zayn took the drink from him and sipped it._

_“We’re not watching this,” he stated._

_“Why not?” Liam asked innocently. “Your very first movie is your best, in my personal opinion.”_

_“That’s harsh,” Zayn said, as he was aware his first movie was unworthy of all the awards it didn’t win. Probably, most people had forgotten it existed. Zayn couldn’t remember much about the movie himself. He figured he had to push it to the back of his mind to keep himself somewhat sane._

_“But look how cute you were!” Liam, having already pressed ‘play,’ said as a six-year-old Zayn entered the scene to jump on his film parents’ bed and tell them there was a monster hiding in his closet._

_The irony was not lost on Zayn._

_“What happened?” Liam asked._

_“What?!” Zayn, spooked out of his own thoughts, asked, straining his throat in the process. His eyes began to water again as Liam shushed him and watched him worriedly as he took a drink of water. Still, when Zayn had, again, composed himself, Liam did not ease up on his marathon of teasing Zayn._

_“You used to be so cute. What happened?” he continued, an ornery smile on his face. With his app, Zayn said,_

_“I grew to become hot as fuck.”_

_“Yeah, I guess I can’t argue with that,” Liam admitted. He studied Zayn’s face for a few moments and then turned back to the TV. Deciding he was too tired to fight Liam over watching the movie, Zayn used the opportunity to take a nap. It felt like he’d just fallen asleep before he woke again, but a decent amount of time must have passed because the television was turned off and there was no light coming in from the windows anymore. At first, Zayn thought Liam had left, but he soon became aware of noises coming from the kitchen and the smell of food cooking. On cue, his stomach growled, but before he could force himself out of the blanket that had been tucked around him tightly to check when dinner would be ready, Liam came back to the living room to turn on a lamp and set a TV tray in front of Zayn. When he saw that his friend was awake, he smiled. Liam was still wearing his mask, but Zayn could see the smile perfectly from his eyes._

_“Hey,” Liam greeted softy. “You hungry?”_

_Zayn nodded._

_“Hope you don’t care that I helped myself in the kitchen, but I’ve made grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup.”_

_“The perfect meal for sick days,” Zayn said with the amount of voice he could muster, feeling too lazy to type the sentence into his phone. He expected Liam to shush him, but he didn’t. Instead, he hummed in agreement, ruffled Zayn’s hair, and then went back to the kitchen to get their food._

_“I guess I can let you pick the film this time,” Liam allowed, handing the remote to Zayn. Without turning the television on, Zayn set the remote in his lap._

_“Sometime, when I’m not sick, can you wear that mask and play doctor on me?” he whispered. Even though his voice was far from sexy, he saw the slightest blush tint Liam’s cheeks._

_“I would love to,” he replied._

_Before leaving that night, Liam made sure Zayn was tucked snugly into bed. He put water and pills on his nightstand, the remote by Zayn’s side, plugged his phone into the outlet nearest the bed, took his temperature, and kissed him on the head-without his mask-before deciding he could depart. Zayn hadn’t had a fever when Liam just checked it, but his body temperature seemed to drop drastically once Liam wasn’t around. With a sigh, Zayn turned on a playlist of all of Liam’s songs and fell asleep to his voice._

_Liam texted Zayn the next day to make sure he was doing alright, but he didn’t have much communication with him until the day after that. Zayn was in the bath when Liam sent him a Face Time call. Typically, Zayn didn’t take baths-as a bath only consisted of laying in your own filth-and he knew he was going to have to shower immediately afterward, but he was lonely and thought taking a warm bubble bath while drinking wine might help like it seemed to in the movies._

_“Hello,” Zayn said as he accepted the call, not bothering to get out of the tub. Liam’s eyebrows quirked up instantly, and Zayn saw his gaze fall to his collar bones before he subtly swallowed and gave a smile._

_“Hey!” Liam said. “Feeling better? Your voice sounds a lot better.”_

_“It’s getting there…and I’m getting there,” Zayn said._

_“You know, I didn’t much picture you as a bath person, but it’s a nice sight.”_

_“I’ll have to take a shower after,” Zayn said._

_“Naturally,” Liam allowed._

_“I have wine,” Zayn announced, bringing his glass into the shot._

_“Me too,” Liam said, lifting his bottle into view. Zayn gave a small laugh._

_“I need to catch up.”_

_“Please not while you’re in the tub,” Liam asked. “Wine makes you sleepy.”_

_“Sometimes,” Zayn said. “Tired or not, it does always make me want to go to bed…”_

_Liam’s eyes widened and he shook his head._

_“You know, I was supposed to be the entertainer tonight, but I’m rather enjoying watching you.”_

_“What do you mean?” Zayn questioned._

_“Hold on.”_

_Setting down his phone, Liam walked off screen. Zayn sipped his wine as he waited patiently for the other man to return and when he did-sitting in front of his phone, which was propped against something or another- Zayn attractively dribbled some of his wine down his chin. Liam had come back with his doctor mask, but that wasn’t all. He was shirtless, with only a lab coat on his top half. Revealing briefs adorned his bottom half and a stethoscope was around his neck. Snapping blue medical gloves onto his hands, Liam said,_

_“Dr. Payne here for a video follow-up. How is my patient feeling today?”_

_“Hot,” Zayn replied, a wide smile breaking across his face._

_“You look hot,” ‘Dr. Payne,’ told the other, looking him up and down and nodding in approval. “Dangerously hot, in fact. Have you been taking anything for your fever?”_

_“Not today,” Zayn announced. Liam ‘tsked.’ Zayn said,_

_“I thought if I looked too hot, I may get more time with you.”_

_Again, by Liam’s eyes, Zayn could tell that he’d smiled._

_“You’re a naughty patient,” Liam told him._

_“What are you going to do about it?” Zayn asked, ‘accidentally’ letting his phone slip briefly so that more of his body was exposed._

_“Well, if you’re not wanting to take medicine, then I guess the best way to get rid of that fever is just to sweat it out.”_

_“Actually, I’m feeling a bit chilled now,” Zayn said. “Want to help me warm back up?”_

_Liam sighed, acting as if he were put out by the request, and rolled up the sleeves to his lab coat. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, slowly, the way Zayn liked, and then slid the stethoscope from his neck. Lounging back, so that Zayn had a better view of his bottom half than his top, Liam asked,_

_“How do you suggest I do that, Mr. Malik?”_

_“I dunno. Wanna dance for me?”_

_“Dance?” Liam asked, breaking character for only a moment as he laughed. He quickly sobered and then said,_

_“I wasn’t trained in the art of dance, unfortunately. I’m a medical doctor, Zayn; remember?”_

_“Ah, yes,” Zayn said, his voice barely audible, though it had less to do with his Laryngitis than it did the fact that he was hyper-focused on Liam subtly moving his hips back and forth as he shook his head and brushed his hair back into place. With a smirk, he said,_

_“Surely, there must be another way.”_

_“You’re the doctor,” Zayn reminded him. “You should know the remedy.”_

_“I suppose I might have a couple of ideas,” Liam sighed. “First, do you mind if I shed the lab coat? It’s a bit tight and I can think better when I’m less restricted.”_

_“Your underwear looks pretty tight too, if I may add.”_

_“Now, now, Zayn,” Liam said in a stern voice. “I don’t want to overheat you. I’m not quite sure how dire the situation is yet.”_

_Zayn watched as Liam slowly-seductively-took off his fake lab coat._

_“Getting warmer?” he asked._

_“Just a little,” Zayn replied. Pulling his gloves up finger-by-finger, Liam eventually snapped them off and tossed them aside, casually running a hand up his own thigh, like Zayn wished he could do to him right now._

_“What a shame,” Liam said, and pulled a candy cane from, seemingly, his ass (though Zayn knew it actually-probably-hadn’t been stored up there.)_

_“Is your throat still sore?” Liam asked, twirling the candy cane around his right pointer finger._

_“A bit,” Zayn admitted, though he wasn’t focused on the pain at all in the moment._

_“It helps to have something to suck on,” Liam told him. He took off his mask and opened the candy cane, purposefully pushing the curved part into his mouth so that it bulged against his cheek. He only kept it there a moment before sliding it back out with a satisfying ‘pop.’ Zayn watched wordlessly, his mouth slightly agape, and then couldn’t help but to laugh._

_“You’re ridiculous,” he said._

_“Yeah, but it’s working,” Liam said with a smile._

_“Is not,” Zayn lied. Liam couldn’t tell him otherwise, as he couldn’t see below Zayn’s nipples._

_“Then why are your pupils dilated to the size of quarters?”_

_“Must be the medicine.”_

_“Right,” Liam laughed. “Thought you didn’t take any today?”_

_Shit. Liam was too good at this._

_“Okay, maybe I like it, but you clearly like being a tease too.”_

_Zayn’s eyes traveled to Liam’s bulge and Liam looked as well, to see that Zayn was correct and that he was not hiding his pleasure as well as he was probably wanting to._

_“Hey, I was caught off guard,” Liam defended himself. “I was expecting you to answer and be all sick and pathetic looking like the other day, but here you are; bright eyes, red cheeks, and naked in the bathtub.”_

_“I guess we’ve both gotten ourselves into quite the situation then, huh?” Zayn asked._

_“Yes, it appears so.”_

_“Well, what are you going to do about it, Dr. Payne? I don’t think I’m quite worked up enough to sweat out this fever yet.”_

_Liam groaned-though it sounded more like a moan-and spread his legs out in front of him as he traced the outline of his briefs around his thigh._

_“You’re such a needy patient. I’m not sure your insurance covers this.”_

_“Then maybe you can slide me a deal. You know…since it’s your fault I’m deathly ill anyway.”_

_Liam rolled his eyes, then began sucking on his candy cane again. There was nothing sensual about it at first, but he soon ran the thin part of the candy over his lip, coloring the skin bright red, before elongating his tongue and wrapping it around the stick, bringing it into his mouth until he was deepthroating almost the entire candy cane. Zayn purposefully made a sound of pleasure-he guessed he could give Liam a little something to work with-and took another sip of his wine as he watched Liam play with the candy for a bit longer. He was not expecting Liam to start playing with himself as he did so, but he also wasn’t complaining when he did._

_“That’s not fair,” he said. “I don’t get to see what you’re doing through your tighty whities.”_

_Liam gave a small laugh, probably because the term ‘tighty whities’ did not belong in any sexy moment, but Zayn was trying to hold himself off as long as he could. He hadn’t been able to **be** with Liam the past couple of times he saw him, and while he enjoyed his company regardless, he craved more. _

_“I can’t see what you’re doing either,” Liam reasoned. It was Zayn’s turn to sigh. He lifted the phone up to show as much body as he could, and Liam gave a ‘hm’ of approval._

_“You don’t look very cold to me,” he commented._

_“I could be warmer,” Zayn said._

_“Is that so?” Liam asked. He was still gently fondling himself and Zayn wondered if he should do the same. Deciding against it for the time being-Liam had said he was the entertainer of the night, not Zayn-the other man asked,_

_“Yeah. Now are you going to help me out or do I have to do all the work myself?”_

_In lieu of answering, Liam closed his eyes and made a sound of pleasure, pulling his underwear down just a bit. Zayn felt himself twitch and put a bubble over his own treasures, as he was not going to fulfill all of Liam’s needs just yet._

_“Baby,” Liam panted, and Zayn felt his temperature rise. “I wish you were here.”_

_“Me, too,” Zayn said. “I bet I could make those briefs even tighter on you.”_

_Just the words seemed to make Liam’s underwear grow tighter, unless Zayn was imagining it. By the look on Liam’s face, he didn’t think he was. While moments ago, his expressions and noises had been mostly for show, Zayn could tell Liam was starting to get into it now, which only raised Zayn’s arousal._

_“I wish I was that candy cane,” Zayn continued. Liam, who still had the candy in the hand he wasn’t using to fondle himself, looked at it as if he’d forgotten it was there, but at Zayn’s words he again began to suck on it, hollowing his cheeks so that his cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut stone. Zayn awarded his efforts with another moan of approval._

_“Yeah, it feels so good when you do that to me,” he said, finally touching himself a little. It took Liam a moment to notice, but when he did, he shifted his body, his hand working faster underneath his briefs._

_“You know, this isn’t really fair,” Zayn said._

_“What do you mean, babe?” Liam asked, making sure to keep his voice sultry even though there was a hint of desperation in it now._

_“I’m here, cock out, and you’re still hidden behind your tight little briefs.”_

_“Oh, you want them off?” Liam asked._

_“It’s only fair.”_

_Nodding, Liam tossed his candy cane and laid on the ground, slowly thrusting up his hips and working slowly on his underwear. When he sat back up, fully exposed, Zayn smiled. “Much better, though you don’t look like you’re going to last much longer.”_

_“I’m fine,” Liam said. “Bet I can make you come first.”_

_“You’re on.”_

_It would be comical if not so pornographic, Zayn supposed, if someone were to watch the competition they had created. The more turned on Zayn became, the louder Liam got with his moans, and the more turned on Liam grew, the slower Zayn made his. The speed in which Liam was playing with himself heightened for Zayn while Zayn messed about slowly and seductively. In the end, Liam won the competition, ending Zayn by looking directly into his eyes, licking his lips and simply saying, “Come for me, baby.”_

_Liam, however, wasn’t too far behind._

_“Fucking hell,” Zayn sighed once he began to come down. Liam, shaking slightly, gave a breathy laugh._

_“Yeah,” he agreed. “Feel lucky you’re in a bath right now.”_

_Zayn laughed as Liam shook his sticky hand._

_“I’m definitely going to need a shower now,” he stated._

_“Wish I could join you,” Liam said._

_“Me too,” Zayn agreed._

_“I guess I should let you go,” Liam said. “I’ve made you talk too much. You’re getting hoarser with every word.”_

_Zayn hummed noncommittally. He wouldn’t tell Liam, but his throat was hurting much worse than it was before. Still, he knew it had been worth it._

_Despite Liam just announcing that he should end the call, he continued,_

_“I wish we could fall asleep together.”_

_“You’re always so sappy after your orgasms,” Zayn teased, though he was smiling. Liam returned the grin._

_“I’ve always been the sex and cuddle type of guy, not the fuck and flee.”_

_“I know, and I respect that. Maybe I’ll surprise you at a show soon.”_

_“I hope you do,” Liam said. “You’re always on my guest list.”_

_Zayn smiled, but neither said a word for a few moments. Finally, Liam sighed._

_“I really need to wash my hands.”_

_“Go wash your hands,” Zayn said. “I’m going to shower and crash, I think.”_

_“Goodnight, Z,” Liam said. “I’m glad you’re feeling a little better.”_

_“‘Night, Li. See you soon.”_

_Liam didn’t know quite how soon he would see Zayn. After showering and getting into a pair of Liam’s pajamas that had been left at Zayn’s place ages ago, the singer used his phone to check his email, and smiled when he saw the confirmed flight to Italy scheduled for  just a week’s time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself I was going to finally write real porn and this was the best I could do. I hope it was somewhat enjoyable.


	17. Say It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Liam for releasing this song just in time for this chapter. Shout out to me for getting way behind schedule so I have this song to use ;) But I am sorry, though...again.

          _Jet lagged as he was, Zayn felt full of energy as he rode in the back of the cab to where Liam was having his performance. He hoped the other would be happy to see him, or that he wouldn’t have better plans that he would cancel simply because he felt bad that Zayn had flown all the way to Italy. Louis had told Zayn it would be ‘sweet’ and ‘romantic’ if he popped in unexpectedly in another country just to see Liam, but Zayn was suddenly regretting taking Louis’s advice. (He regretted taking Louis’s advice almost every time he did so, which meant that Zayn was probably much stupider than he cared to admit to himself.)_

_Of course, someone on Liam’s team could have spilled the beans. Since Zayn and Liam were public enemies, his presence at the other’s show had to be kept a secret, which meant that Zayn had to plan out the logistics with Liam’s tour manager. Zayn supposed only time would tell._

_The cab pulled around back, just as Zayn had requested, and let him off beside a door that was hidden from the general public’s view. There were two security guards standing there and after checking Zayn’s ID to verify that he was, in fact, the pop star, one of them led him inside while the other remained guarding the door._

_Zayn saw Liam before Liam saw him. He was off in the distance, chatting with someone who appeared to work for the arena. It was very unfair how Liam always looked like he was modeling for a magazine even when he didn’t have to be; his posture was always perfect, his smile always in place. Zayn’s heart temporarily beat out of rhythm and he cleared his throat to try to calm it._

_The security guard leading the way was so large that Liam didn’t see Zayn behind him at first. Catching sight of the guard from his peripheral vision, Liam looked over and raised an eyebrow, obviously concerned. Realizing that Liam didn’t see him, Zayn stepped around the other man and Liam’s eyes were drawn to him almost immediately. The smile, which had remained on his face even with his worry, grew wider, and he made a sound that Zayn took to be a mixture of surprise and elation. That’s what he had been hoping, at least._

_If they were alone, Zayn knew that Liam would run to him, wrap his arms around his torso, and bury his face into the side of his neck. They would remain that way for a moment before Liam would kiss his lips, run his fingers through Zayn’s hair, and ask how he was._

_But they weren’t alone, which Liam seemed to have forgotten for a moment, and when he remembered, he cleared his throat in a belated attempt to hide the noise he’d made and pulled his smile back to what it had been before._

_“Hey,” he greeted, almost nonchalantly (but not quite.)_

_“Hey,” Zayn said as well. “I was in the area and thought I’d drop by for a free show.”_

_“Oh, you just happened to be in the area, huh?” Liam asked, his smile turning to a light smirk._

_“Yep,” Zayn said. “I quite like Italy. Naturally, I wouldn’t come here just for you.”_

_Knowing he was teasing, Liam nodded._

_“Fair enough,” he said. “Italy is beautiful.”_

_**You’re beautiful** , Zayn would have said if they were alone. Or maybe not because that sounded like some cheesy line Louis would say._

_“And the wine is great,” Zayn added._

_“The wine is delicious,” Liam agreed. “And the pasta is phenomenal.”_

_“Well, obviously.”_

_The security guard, sensing that everything was alright, had walked away at some point during Zayn and Liam’s exchange, and the woman who had been talking to the singer just before Zayn arrived was looking between the two, clearly annoyed that she had been interrupted, though she was putting a small amount of effort into hiding it._

_“I’m going to take a piss,” Zayn said. “See you later.”_

_“Great. Thanks for that information.”_

_Zayn kept his facial expression flat until he turned around and had walked a few feet away. He felt as if eyes were still on him, and he glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see the woman glaring at him, but instead, it was Liam watching him walk away with a content smile and a soft expression. Zayn couldn’t help but to break into a smile as well, and Liam winked at him before turning back to the woman. Zayn continued on his route to the restroom._

_The men didn’t get any time alone before Liam had to go onstage. Zayn knew he probably wouldn’t get any time alone with him until long after the show had ended, but that would be okay. The wait was always worth it._

_Zayn had been sitting on a couch, watching Liam’s performance on a backstage television, and was headed to get a drink once Liam took his first break. Instead, he was interrupted when the man hooked his arm around Zayn and pulled him to the dressing room, where he closed and locked the door, pushed Zayn gently against the wall, and kissed him._

_“Sorry I’m sweaty,” he apologized softly when they broke apart._

_“I’ll overlook it,” Zayn assured him, making sure to take a good look at every inch of Liam’s sweat-covered face. The other smiled and kissed him again._

_“Are you staying in my hotel tonight?” Liam asked._

_“No,” Zayn said. “You’re staying in mine.”_

_“I’m not going to complain over that.”_

_“Good, because you’re staying in mine for the next three days.”_

_Zayn knew that Liam didn’t have a show for almost a week after that night’s performance. He also knew he had been planning to spend some time in Italy, as he’d told Zayn he was already getting sick of traveling only halfway through his tour. Zayn could only hope that Liam hadn’t been counting on having much alone time during his stay._

_Liam kissed Zayn until his door had been knocked on twice, with someone on the other side telling him to hurry up and get back onstage. Zayn watched as Liam changed into his second outfit, and Liam gave him another quick kiss before hurrying back to his audience. Zayn may have sighed like a pre-teen with their first crush and went to the backstage bar to get a drink and forget he did such a thing._

_“So what really brought you to Italy?”_

_Liam’s concert had finally ended. His driver took Liam to his hotel to gather the items he’d just dropped off that morning and then he dropped the men off where Zayn was staying. Zayn had ordered room service pizza and a bottle of wine while Liam showered. Liam emerged in a warm, yet form fitting, sweatshirt and gray joggers, so after the food and beverages arrived, Zayn got into the most attractive pair of pajamas he owned. Liam worked on putting two slices of pizza on each of their plates and pouring the wine while Zayn changed, and once they were ready, the pair slid under the blankets and intertwined their legs, eating and drinking with their only source of light coming from the TV._

_It didn’t take long for the pair to finish off the wine, and both were reasonably tipsy by the time it was gone. Setting their plates and cups aside, Liam turned down the volume on the television and rolled over so that his body was on top of Zayn’s, kissing his nose before smiling sweetly. Zayn returned the smile, and that was when Liam asked the question._

_“So what really brought you to Italy?”_

_Zayn could keep playing coy, but he discovered that he didn’t want to. It might have been the wine talking, but suddenly, he was feeling just the slightest bit romantic, and so he simply said,_

_“You, of course.”_

_Beaming, Liam gave Zayn a kiss on the lips._

_“I’m so happy you’re here.”_

_“I’m happy that you’re happy I’m here.”_

_Liam giggled and then rolled back over to his own side, though he made sure to keep their legs touching and their hands together._

_“I wish the world knew,” he sighed._

_“I know you do,” Zayn said, “but come on, babe; they really couldn’t handle us.”_

_Liam laughed and then shrieked as Zayn flipped himself over so that he was straddling the other man and began to tickle his side._

_“Don’t, don’t, don’t! Please!” Liam said through his laughs. “We just drank so much, and I don’t want to break the seal yet!”_

_It was Zayn’s turn to laugh, but, as Liam requested, he refrained from tickling him anymore. Liam sighed, content, and gave Zayn’s ass a nice, light squeeze before saying,_

_“I don’t know how the world handles **you**. I’m pretty sure you’re a demigod reincarnated.”_

_“Nah. I’m not nearly ripped enough to be a demigod.”_

_“I think your body is very sexy.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_Leaning up, Liam began to kiss Zayn, more passionately than he had all day. He caressed behind Zayn’s ears before holding lightly to the back of his head. After a minute, Liam pulled away, just long enough to ask,_

_“Do you need Dr. Payne tonight, or will I do?”_

_After receiving assurance that Liam would do just fine, Liam pulled Zayn closer and began kissing him again._

            Zayn was already awake when Liam came to the morning after their interview, but he pretended he was still asleep. He felt Liam kiss his cheek softly and then heard him quietly leave the bed, shuffle in his luggage for some clothes, and go to take a shower. Zayn didn’t know why this morning already felt so hard. The few comments he’d let Liam read to him about their interview had been positive, but Zayn knew that not all of them were like that. He’d been so determined, originally, to have some epic monologue ready that would completely clear his name and bring peace to his soul, but when the time came, Zayn froze. He’d let Liam do most of the talking, which he did gracefully, as always, but he couldn’t share what was on Zayn’s soul because he didn’t know.

            _Some kind of relationship,_ Zayn thought, not for the first time.

            He squeezed his eyes shut, only letting one single tear escape, and focused on listening to the water from Liam’s shower hit the tub. He should be in there, making celebratory love to his boyfriend, but instead, he was in bed, with nearly all of the covers pulled over his head, feeling sorry for himself, as per usual.

            Zayn was still feigning sleep once Liam came out from the bathroom and he heard his boyfriend quietly leave the room. Sighing, Zayn sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and looking around the room until he felt present in his own body again. Maybe once he took his medicine, he would feel okay.

            It took Zayn seven minutes to coax himself out of bed. He took his pills, wondering where Liam had gone and wishing he could wash down his medication with a bottle of the champagne that was sitting on the entertainment console.

            After taking his medicine and using the toilet, Zayn crawled back into bed and was just getting himself situated when Liam came back, balancing two plates on top of each other. He had a cup of what appeared to be apple juice carefully balanced between his teeth and lips. Moving faster than Zayn had thought possible that morning, he got out of bed to grab the top plate and cup from his man.

            “Thanks,” Liam said, offering Zayn a smile. “And good morning.”

            “Good morning.”

            “I’m glad you’re awake so I didn’t have to wake you,” he continued. “We have to leave in just over an hour so we can make it to our show tonight.”

            “I forgot we had a show tonight,” Zayn admitted, furrowing his brows as he sat back on the bed with the plate that Liam said was his and a bottle of milk that Liam had carried up in his back pocket.

            “Are you okay?” Liam asked worriedly, massaging the crease Zayn had made in between his eyebrows.

            “Yeah,” Zayn said. “It’s just…you know…one of those days.”

            “Do you want to talk about it?”

            “Nah.”

            _Of course not,_ Zayn knew Liam had thought to himself, but he was kind enough to not say it.

            “Thanks for bringing up breakfast,” Zayn said, making sure he smiled, and Liam returned it.

            “You’re welcome. Thank you.”

            Again, Zayn furrowed his brows.

            “What are you thanking me for?”

            “Being you. And for being there to support me yesterday.”

            “Liam, I think you were supporting me more than the other way around.”

            “No,” Liam lightly disagreed. “You support me more than you know, Z, just by being there. And just by being you.”

            _The me that you see_ , Zayn thought to himself, but instead of saying so, he smiled and kissed Liam on the cheek.

            Halloween was the next day. The tour had landed them in Italy for Halloween; something that Liam seemed to derive much joy from. “We’ve been in Italy for almost every season!” he told Zayn happily as the two changed into their costumes in the dressing room. “We’ll have to come back in the Spring.”

            “Remember that time you tried to steal a gondola while you were drunk so you could take me on an after-hours ride?” Zayn asked as he popped his first fang in. Liam and Zayn had asked the fans what they thought they should be for Halloween, and out of all the costumes they could have chosen, vampires had the most requests. Zayn had said he thought their fans were more creative than that. Liam said they just liked the thought of the two of them biting and sucking each other.

            “I remember you telling me about it,” Liam said, fastening his cloak around him. “I don’t quite remember it actually happening. Remember the time you flew out to Italy to surprise me at my show?”

            “Mmm…Can’t recall.”

            Liam glared playfully, then wrapped his arms around Zayn’s waist from behind and gently bit his neck with his fangs. Zayn smiled and turned to kiss him, but before they could even think about getting anything going, there was a knock on the door. It was Kiki and her girlfriend, Sierra, ready to do their makeup.

            “You two look so hot, it almost makes me think I have a small attraction towards men,” Kiki said once she was through with Liam’s face. Sierra finished dabbing fake blood down Zayn’s chin and then smiled at him, unaffected by what her girlfriend had claimed.

            “Yeah, right,” Liam replied with a snort.

            “Okay, not really,” she admitted. “But you two do look great.”

            “Thank you,” Liam said, looking over Sierra’s shoulder to check her finished project. “I didn’t realize I had a vampire kink until now. Suddenly, I think our fans knew exactly what they were doing when they chose these costumes for us.”

            Zayn merely waggled his eyebrows and stood from the bed Sierra had him sitting on. Kiki had dressed up as a zombie cheerleader while Sierra was a referee, and they looked so cute together that Zayn couldn’t stop smiling. He couldn’t wait for the day they got to shout their truth to the world. He assumed they would feel better afterward than Zayn had.

            As the girls cleaned up the makeup mess, Liam sat on the bed Zayn had just stood from and pulled his boyfriend down again. Holding onto his waist, Liam first kissed the side of Zayn’s head, then his cheek, and then his neck.

            “I guess it was you who turned me into a vamp rather than vice versa, huh?” Zayn asked, offering a smile to his man but trying not to get too worked up quite yet. It would be a while before the pair had some alone time again.

            “It’s not my fault you’re so damn sexy,” Liam claimed.

            “Sexier as a vampire than a human?”

            “It’s equal.”

            “Ah.”

            Zayn felt Liam’s phone vibrate against his thigh and Liam sighed, reluctantly letting go of Zayn to check his messages.

            “Our ride awaits,” he said, giving a small sigh before putting his phone back in his pocket.

            “Why do you sound so sad about it? I thought you wanted to go out?” Zayn asked, stroking Liam’s jawline. Liam kissed him before replying.

            “Well, now I want you all to myself.”

            Zayn smiled, but untangled himself from Liam and stood once again.

            “Come on,” he urged, taking Liam’s hand and tugging on it gently. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back and I can have you all to myself again.”

            The men helped Kiki and Sierra finish packing their makeup items away and they all headed to the back of the hotel together, where Liam’s driver was waiting to take them to the club. Zayn had barely put his seatbelt on when his own phone went off. It was his turn to sigh when he saw a text from his manager. Liam gave him a questioning look, but, against his better judgement, Zayn ignored him and opened the message to see what it said.

            _This is about work, I promise,_ the message said, and then a second came through.

            _I know you’re going out tonight and I need to ask you to be good. Everyone is waiting for a slip up, Zaynie-especially tonight. Especially after that interview._

Feeling quite petty, Zayn sent Martin a gif of himself from one of his music videos, effortlessly popping the cork from a champagne bottle and drinking. However, it backfired on him when Martin said,

            _God, you looked so hot in that video._

Rolling his eyes, Zayn replied,

            _At least I was of age, I guess._

Without waiting for another reply, Zayn put his phone away. He felt the phone vibrate again, but he didn’t check the message. Belatedly, he noticed Liam staring at him.

            “What?” he asked and smiled. Liam didn’t return the grin.

            “Is something going on?”

            “Just Martin being annoying,” Zayn replied. Feeling suddenly restless, he took a piece of gum from his pocket and shoved the stick in his mouth, chewing roughly before explaining, “Telling me not to drink, like I would be dumb enough to relapse in the public eye.”

            “You’re not planning on relapsing in private either, are you?” Kiki asked, turning around from the front seat to give Zayn a look that reminded him of his mother. That caused a dull ache in his chest, but Zayn still managed to continue smiling, and he rolled his eyes.

            “I would have actually had to be addicted to relapse,” he told her.

            “You’re the one who used the word.”

            “I wasn’t being serious,” Zayn said, and flicked his balled-up gum wrapper at the woman’s head.

            “Oh, real mature,” she said, but then found the wrapper and flicked it back. It hit Sierra instead, and Kiki giggled.

            “You’re going to pay for that,” Sierra claimed.

            “I hope so,” she replied.

            Even though the fans had voted for what Zayn and Liam should be for the holiday, the pair hadn’t announced which costume had won, which meant that they stayed unrecognized for most of the night. They gave pictures and autographs to those fans who realized who they were with the polite request that they tell nobody else until the next day. They seemed to be compliant.

            Zayn had assured Kiki and Sierra before even entering the club that he would be fine if they chose to get ‘real’ drinks. Both seemed hesitant, but eventually their desire for alcohol won, and though Zayn was jealous, he knew he had done this to himself.

            Liam had been told the same thing-that he could drink whatever he wanted-but he swore the virgin drinks were just as good as those that had booze.

            “They’re even better,” he’d tried to claim when Zayn made it obvious he didn’t believe him. “They don’t ever make you sick or give you a headache.”

            Unconvinced, Zayn took a sip from Liam’s virgin daquiri and made a show of gagging on it.

            “Liam, that’s pure sugar,” he said. “I’m pretty sure if you have a few of those, it will make you just as sick as alcohol.”

            “Well, I’ll only have one then,” Liam said, and kissed Zayn.

            “I bet you can’t wait until we’re back home and I’m not around so you can have something that’s actually good,” Zayn said.

            “I’d rather have you and drink this than be away from you and have whatever.”

            Zayn shook his head, but before he could argue, Liam grabbed his hand with the one that wasn’t holding his glass.

            “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go dance.”

            “Dance? I’m _definitely_ going to need a drink for that.”

            Liam offered him another taste from his daquiri, and Zayn narrowed his eyes.

            “Not what I meant.”

            “Come on, it will be a nice sugar rush, at least,” Liam tried. Zayn sipped the drink, but dramatically gagged again. Liam laughed, but lightly smacked his arm.

            “Stop!” he said. “People are going to think you really do have alcohol if you keep acting like you’re going to puke all over the place.”

            “I’ll invite them to try your daquiri, then. I’m sure they’ll have the same reaction.”

            “I happen to think the drink is quite good.”

            “You’re in denial.”

            Liam rolled his eyes, but sucked down a good portion of his drink, keeping eye contact with Zayn all the while. Zayn wanted to act disgusted, but that was hard with the hollowing out of Liam’s cheeks.

            “Dance with me, please?” Liam begged, dragging out the word and batting his eyelashes.

            “Fine,” Zayn caved. “You lead.”

            Taking his hand again, Liam led Zayn to the dance floor. Liam spun Zayn, who couldn’t help but to laugh, as if he were a ballerina, but his breath was nearly taken from him when Liam pulled him tight against his body, ran his fingernails down his spine, and lightly bit his neck.

            “I vant to zuck your blood,” he said, in his best impression of a vampire.

            “Is that all you vant to zuck?”

            “I also want to suck down this drink because it’s delicious,” Liam said, licking the spot on Zayn’s neck where he’d bitten.

            “You’re gross,” Zayn told him. Liam laughed again, and then turned Zayn so that his back was to Liam’s front. Keeping a hand on Zayn’s hip, Liam led him in a dance that was basically light dry humping, but Zayn wasn’t complaining.

            After a while, Zayn excused himself to go to the restroom. He had a feeling Liam thought he needed to scrub himself down, but really, Zayn just needed a toilet. He’d been aware of people staring at them while they were on the dance floor, and even though he felt something like shame at first, it quickly faded. Zayn didn’t know if it had to do with the costume, or if he was just too emotionally tired to care anymore, but he knew millions of people would pay money to touch Liam as he was doing, and he wasn’t going to take it for granted.

            Not a fan of urinals, Zayn locked himself in a stall to take his pee, and when he exited, he found one of his back-up dancers, a model-type pretty boy who never seemed to run out of breath, standing by the sink, touching up his eyeliner. Zayn wasn’t quite sure, because the man typically dressed in an unusual fashion, but he didn’t think he was in costume that night.

            “Hey, Benji,” Zayn said politely as he began to wash his hands.

            “What’s up, Zayn?” Benji asked. “Having a good time?”

            “Yeah, this place is nice,” Zayn said, leaving out, of course, that it would be better if he could have a real drink. Zayn knew Benji couldn’t read his mind, but he found it odd that the man chose that time to say,

            “It is. Hey, can I buy you a drink? I know you’re with Liam, but it’s just as a thank you…for, you know, letting me join your tour and such.”

            “Oh. Thanks, but I don’t drink anymore,” Zayn said, surprised that the other didn’t know that. Maybe that made him arrogant. After all, it wasn’t like the entire world followed his life, but he couldn’t help that it felt that way. When Martin said everyone was waiting for him to fall off the wagon, Zayn wondered if he knew how much it truly felt like _everyone_ was counting the days until he slipped.

            “You’re serious about that?” Benji asked.

            “Yeah,” Zayn said, wishing Liam was around to hear him turn down a drink. Surely, he would be proud.

            “Oh. Okay. Cool. Well, if there’s anything I can ever do…”

            Zayn thought he saw Benji wink, but if so, he’d done it so fast that Zayn could have imagined it. He _had_ to have imagined it because, as Benji said, he knew he was with Liam.

            Benji gave Zayn an odd look as he started to scrub his hands harder.

            “Well, have a good night, Zaynie!” the other said after a moment, and flitted out of the bathroom before Zayn could get his head straight.

            “Okay,” Liam said, once Zayn found him at the bar. “They have a mimosa with non-alcoholic champagne that the bartender said is amazing. I ordered you one.”

            “Thanks, Li, but of course the bartender would tell you that. They want your money.”

            “Well, it can’t be worse than the daquiri, can it?”

            “No, babe…It certainly can’t be worse than that.”

            To his disappointment, the fake mimosa was decent. He didn’t want to admit it to Liam, but he must have seen it on his face, because before he’d even said anything, Liam smiled.

            “It’s good, eh?”

            “It’s alright,” Zayn said.

            Smiling, clearly proud of himself, Liam took a sip of Zayn’s drink.

            “Oh, whatever! That’s delicious!”

            To the bartender, who was still lingering in the area, Liam said,

            “Whenever you have a chance, can I get another one of those, please?”

            Probably because they weren’t drinking, Liam and Zayn were ready to go back to the hotel before Kiki and Sierra. The women assured the two that they would find a way back, but, ever the gentleman, Liam insisted his driver wait for them while he and Zayn took a cab.

            “My room or yours?” Liam asked as the cab pulled up to the hotel.

            “It doesn’t matter. Mine, I guess,” Zayn replied. Liam paid for the cab as the driver let Zayn out, and then Zayn held the door for Liam to allow him entrance first. Liam thanked him and gave a wide smile when Zayn held his hand on the way to the room. As soon as the door was closed, Liam kissed him.

            “You’re mine now, you little bloodsucker,” he said, smirking. Zayn laughed and held Liam’s face in his hands while he gave him a kiss. Backing up to the bed, Zayn laid down and allowed Liam to fall gently on top of him, barely breaking the kiss in the meantime.

            “Something weird happened at the club,” Zayn said as Liam freed his lips to begin kissing along his jawline.

            “What’s that?” Liam asked, not removing his lips from Zayn’s skin.

            “I think Benji hit on me.”

            “Who’s Benji?”

            “One of my backup dancers.”

            “Oh. Well that’s not really strange, love. You’re gorgeous. Can’t blame the guy.”

            “I know, but it just felt…weird.”

            “Did he try to touch you?” Liam asked, suddenly serious as he sat up to look in Zayn’s eyes.

            “No, no! Nothing like that…I don’t know. I guess you’re right. It wasn’t that strange. But I didn’t like it. I’m yours.”

            “That’s right,” Liam said, his face relaxing again as a smile formed on his lips a mere moment before he kissed Zayn’s Adam’s apple. “You’re mine.”

            Liam kissed from Zayn’s neck to his chest and Zayn gently pulled his hair. He could already feel Liam getting turned on, and as eager as he was to have Liam to himself earlier, Zayn’s body seemed just as distracted as his mind.

            “Babe, can I ask you something?”

            “Anything.”

            Never wanting Zayn to feel like something he said wasn’t important, Liam stopped kissing him and looked up, patiently waiting. Zayn fish mouthed, trying to figure out how to put what he wanted to say into words. His heart was pounding and suddenly he felt sick, as if he’d had too much alcohol, so he revised his question.

            “Can I tell you something?”

            “Anything.”

            Still, Zayn couldn’t get the words out. He kept reminding himself that he didn’t have to tell Liam everything quite yet-just something, but he found that he couldn’t.

            Forcing a smile, though still feeling mildly nauseous-even though he’d already told himself he wasn’t spilling any secrets; not tonight, Zayn said,

            “You’re hot.”

            “That’s not what you wanted to say!”

            “Yeah it was!”

            “How was that ever a question, then? You said you wanted to ask me something first.”

            “I was going to ask how it’s physically possible for you to be so hot, but then I realized only the gods above could have that answer.”

            “You’re so full of shit,” Liam laughed.

            “Fill me with something else, then,” Zayn said.

            “Is that a demand?”

            “Er…pretty please with a you on top?”

            “You’re ridiculous.”

            Liam was awakened before he’d even completely fallen asleep by his phone vibrating on the nightstand. Lifting it up, he saw that he’d received a message from Kiki, letting him know that she and Sierra had made it safely back to the room. With a smile, Liam told her that he was glad and wished her a good night. Then, he silenced his phone, put it facedown on the nightstand, and rolled back over to kiss Zayn’s arm. He didn’t move.

            “Zayn?” Liam said quietly, but the only reply given was a deep, even breath that confirmed Zayn was deep asleep. Liam kissed the other’s forehead, lightly stroked his cheek, and smiled at his sleeping form before whispering the words he’d only ever had the guts to say when he knew the other couldn’t hear him.

            “I love you.”

            Liam didn’t know why it was so hard for him to say that when Zayn was awake. He’d been telling his sleeping figure that he loved him for years. Of course, Zayn had never said it either, and that was why it scared Liam. He knew Zayn had secrets, and he wondered if one of them was that he loved Liam…or that he didn’t. Liam could deal with saying those three words to Zayn and not hearing them back, but he didn’t think he would be able to handle the way Zayn’s body was sure to tense up if that was something he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t want to scare Zayn away. He seemed always ready to flee from something or another anyway, and Liam would be damned if it was him.

            “I love you,” he whispered again, and then traced it along Zayn’s arm with his finger for good measure.


	18. Trampoline

            _“What time is it?”_

_“You just came less than sixty seconds ago, and you’re already trying to check the time and make an excuse to leave?”_

_Typically, Liam was the cuddlier one after sex, but Zayn would be lying if he didn’t enjoy those moments afterwards in each other’s arms, trying to steady their breathing, as well._

_With a small laugh, Liam gave Zayn a quick kiss on the head and then sat up, picking his phone up from the other man’s nightstand._

_“You know my parents are making dinner tonight since I won’t see them again before I go back to Cali.”_

_“I know, but seriously; who do your parents think they are, taking you away from me?”_

_“Hm. Maybe the ones who created me and raised me?”_

_“Not an excuse.”_

_Liam smiled, shaking his rear slightly as he slipped into his pants. He kissed Zayn as he buttoned the jeans and then said,_

_“Why don’t you come eat with us?”_

_“I wasn’t invited.”_

_“I’m inviting you now.”_

_“Yeah, but you’re not the one doing the cooking.”_

_With a roll of his eyes, Liam put his phone on speaker and began calling someone. He put one finger to his lips, shushing Zayn, and after only a ring and a half, Zayn heard Liam’s mom’s voice come from the other line._

_“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on?”_

_“Just about to head home. Hey, I was wondering, would it be okay if Zayn came to eat with us? He’s not around and doesn’t know I’m asking, so it’s alright if you say no.”_

_Zayn narrowed his eyes and Liam gave his most ornery grin. Obviously unaware of this exchange, Karen said,_

_“Of course he can! There’s plenty of food! As long as he’s okay with Grant joining us as well.”_

_Liam’s smile quickly fell from his face and worry took its place. Zayn raised an eyebrow, but suddenly Liam was refusing to make eye contact with him._

_“Cool,” he said to his mom, managing to keep his voice normal. “I’ll see if he’s got plans for dinner yet and if not, I’ll invite him. Thanks, mum.”_

_“You’re welcome! I hope to see you both soon! I love you.”_

_“Love you too.”_

_Liam disconnected the call and Zayn wasted no time in asking,_

_“Who’s Grant?”_

_“-Oh, just my mum’s friend’s son. He came out of the closet not too long ago and ever since, our parents have been convinced that we’re soul mates.”_

_“Huh. Interesting.”_

_Glaring, Liam threw an empty condom wrapper at Zayn’s head._

_“It’s okay if you don’t want to come. I’ll tell my mum you already had plans with another friend or something…”_

_“Oh, no. I’m definitely coming,” Zayn assured his friend. Getting up from the bed, he went to his closet and began searching for something to wear. The clothes that he’d been wearing before Liam stripped him from them would just not do. The shirt was unflattering; the pants made his ass look even smaller than it was. If he was going to be in the same room as his competition-then he had to ensure he had a fair chance of looking better than him._

_When he turned back around, still stark naked with his new outfit in hand, Liam’s expression had changed yet again, to one of amusement._

_“What?” Zayn asked._

_“You don’t have to get all fancy,” Liam said. “It’s just dinner at my parents’ home with my family.”_

_“Wrong. It’s dinner at your parents’ home with your family and your soul mate, **Grant**.”_

_Liam cackled then-actually cackled-and Zayn wanted to yell at him, but he couldn’t help the small smile forming on his own face. He was being ridiculous and even he knew it._

_“He’s not my soul mate, Zayn.”_

_“Your parents seem to think otherwise, Liam, and parents know best, right?” Zayn asked as he began getting dressed._

_“Not necessarily. They also think you’re Ruth’s soul mate.”_

_“Ruth is a lovely woman,” Zayn allowed. “Think she’d get a dick for me?”_

_“Nah, I doubt it.”_

_“Shame.”_

_“But if it’s just the dick you want from a man, I think she would be willing to use a dildo on you.”_

_“Oh, darling, after experiencing your penis, a dildo will never do.”_

_“Aw, Zaynie; you do know the exact words to say to charm a man.”_

_When Zayn and Liam arrived at Liam’s house, Liam allowed his guest to enter first. Immediately, Zayn’s eyes were drawn to an unknown man on the couch that he could only assume was Grant. Something akin to jealousy coursed through Zayn’s body._

_Zayn liked to think he wasn’t as vain as the general public believed him to be, but vain is what he felt while looking at the man who was standing from the couch and going to hug Liam like he were in slow motion._

_Grant was tall (taller than Zayn) with dark skin (darker than Zayn’s), deep brown eyes (deeper than Zayn’s), and muscles (much bigger than Zayn’s.)_

_In reality, looks didn’t matter all that much to Zayn- **he** liked to look his best, but he wasn’t one to judge another on their physical appearance. However, this whole ‘Liam having a soul mate’ thing would be much easier for him to laugh through if his ‘soul mate’ wasn’t so damn attractive._

_After breaking the hug with Liam-interesting how Grant was the first to pull away, Zayn noted-the Paynes’ other guest turned to Zayn, who startled when he extended a hand._

_“Nice to meet you,” Grant said, smiling (his teeth were straighter and whiter than Zayn’s, too) and kindly not mentioning Zayn’s noticeable jump. “I’m Grant, Liam’s mate.”_

_“I’m Zayn,” Zayn said, though he was sure Grant knew. “I’m Liam’s…other mate.”_

_Grant laughed-Zayn told himself it was in a non-mocking way to keep the ringing in his ears under control-and then Liam put a hand on his back, comforting him for just a moment. Karen entered the room, giving the newest arrivals her usual warm smile and hurrying to hug them; first Zayn and then Liam._

_“Dinner is almost ready,” she said._

_“Do you need help with anything, Karen?” Grant asked, right as Zayn had opened his mouth to ask her the same thing._

_“No, no. You all relax. Liam, it’s been a while since you and Grant have seen each other, hasn’t it? Why don’t you two catch up? Oh, and I suppose Grant and Zayn have already been introduced?”_

_“Yeah, they have. And it has been a while.”_

_Liam nodded to the couch, silently asking Zayn if he would like to take a seat with him, and after being told that Karen was **positive** she didn’t need any help, Zayn sat down at one end, his hip pressed into the side, as Grant and Liam were also on the couch with him and it wasn’t a particularly large sofa._

_Noticing Zayn’s uncomfortable predicament (though, of course, not realizing all the reasons it was uncomfortable), Ruth said,_

_“There’s plenty of room on this chair, Zayn.”_

_Zayn smiled as Ruth winked and patted the chair she was sitting in. There was far less room on the chair than there even was on the sofa, but Zayn was still tempted to join her, as it would get him farther away from Liam and Grant, who were laughing over something Grant had shown Liam on his phone._

_Only about five minutes later, Geoff called the group to dinner, and being the gentleman he was, Liam pulled Zayn’s chair out for him. Zayn maybe would have appreciated it more if he hadn’t also pulled Grant’s out._

_Liam’s family were some of the nicest people Zayn had ever met (even Ruth, through all of her not-so-subtle flirting), and Karen and Geoff were amazing cooks, but Zayn was starting to wish he hadn’t come. The way Nicola and her parents kept smiling at Liam and Grant whenever they had any sort of interaction was a bit nauseating. Part of Zayn-the tiny part that wasn’t overly jealous-was happy for Liam that he had parents who truly did not care that his soul mate was going to be another man, but that part was tainted by bitterness over the knowledge that Zayn’s parents would toss him out faster than smelly garbage if he touched a man the way Liam was touching Grant (even though all he did was tap his wrist as he laughed at something his friend had said…yet again.)_

_During the meal, Zayn found out that Liam and Grant had known each other since they were in diapers and if he wasn’t nauseated before he definitely was then. How cute and perfect would that be? Friends since diapers…soul mates forever._

_It was soon after that in which Zayn realized he needed to reel in his emotions because Ruth put her flirting to the side to whisper in Zayn’s ear and ask if he was okay. Zayn made an excuse about having a mild headache._

_“Too much time with Liam will do that to you,” Ruth replied, but got up to get Zayn some medicine which he then, of course, felt obliged to take. The exchange was subtle and no one but Liam paid any attention to it. He raised his brows in concern when he saw Zayn take the medicine, so Zayn smiled-feeling a little better right away once he had Liam’s attention-and replied to something Karen had said._

_Geoff and Zayn finished their meals first. Zayn hadn’t been able to eat all of his, but he put a napkin on his plate and got up to clean his dishes off before anyone could notice. He took Geoff’s with him, despite Karen insisting that she would clean up, and dumped the remainder of his food in the garbage. He was rinsing off his plate when someone poked his side. Gasping, he jumped and turned to see Liam standing beside of him, his mouth quirked up in a smile but the worry he’d shown Zayn at the table still in his eyes._

_“What’s going on?” he asked quietly. “What did Ruth give you?”_

_“Something to knock me out so she can have her way with me, I assume,” Zayn joked, and Liam narrowed his eyes._

_“Not funny.”_

_“What crawled up your ass?” Zayn asked. Leaning forward and speaking in Zayn’s ear, Liam said,_

_“You.”_

_Zayn shivered, but didn’t give Liam time to feel smug about it because he sprayed him with the small hose attached to the sink. It was Liam’s turn to gasp._

_“Jerk,” he said, but he put Zayn’s freshly rinsed plate in the dishwasher for him all the same. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you not feeling well?”_

_“Just a small headache, mummy. I’ll be fine,” Zayn said, and resisted the urge to stroke Liam’s cheek and kiss his lips. Ignore Zayn’s snarkiness, Liam asked,_

_“Do you want to go? I can take you home.”_

_“No, no. All is well, dear Liam.”_

_Before Liam had a chance to reply, Zayn made a show of skipping back to the table and telling his parents how delicious the food was._

_After dinner, there was of course dessert, which Zayn politely declined. When Liam stared him down, Zayn patted his stomach and said, “Watching my figure,” which made Grant eloquently snort into his drink while Ruth smacked Zayn upside the head and earned herself a nice, loud scolding from Karen._

_“Just rubbing it in that you’re skinnier than all of us, are you?” Ruth asked Zayn once Karen had finished scolding her. Zayn knew her question wasn’t meant to be taken to heart, so he simply smiled and said,_

_“You’re perfect, darling.”_

_It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Ruth blush and become unusually quiet for the rest of the night._

_“Grant’s hot.”_

_Zayn told himself he wasn’t going to say anything. Liam had already told him that he wasn’t interested in the other man and besides, it wasn’t Zayn’s business either way. He and Liam were sleeping together, but they weren’t together, so if Liam wanted to date, who was Zayn to tell him no or make him feel bad about it?_

_Of course, Zayn was only human and his mouth did not always listen to his mostly rational mind._

_“You want his number?” Liam asked, only just pulling out of the driveway to take Zayn home._

_“No. I meant for you.”_

_“You trying to get rid of me?”_

_“No. I’m just saying that if you wanted someone who wasn’t so complicated…”_

_Zayn didn’t know where he was going with that thought, so he simply stopped talking. Luckily, Liam didn’t press for him to continue._

_“I don’t want Grant, Z,” he said. “I’d rather keep fucking you if that’s okay.”_

_Unable to stop himself from giving a smile that was too big, Zayn turned to look out the window._

_“I suppose that’s fine with me.”_

_Liam was quiet, but when he was parked at a stoplight, he reached over and began playing with Zayn’s hair, softly massaging his scalp as he did so. If Zayn were a kitten, he would have purred. (He almost did anyway.)_

_Once arriving at Zayn’s house, Liam walked him inside. After ensuring that Zayn’s family was still gone, the two simply stared at each other for a moment, and then, giving a small laugh at God knew what, Liam pulled Zayn closer and gave him a long, tight hug; longer and tighter than the one he gave Grant, Zayn noticed._

_“I’ll see you soon,” Liam said softly._

_“Have a safe flight back to Cali,” Zayn said, his voice nearly cracking._

_“I’m not in charge of the plane, but I’ll do my best.”_

_Letting Zayn out of the hug, Liam kissed him softly on the lips, ruffled the back of his hair again, and then gave him another kiss._

_“Sleep well. I’ll text you when I land in LA.”_

_“As soon as you land. No matter what time it is.”_

_“Yes, dear.”_

_Holding in his sigh, Zayn could only muster the tiniest of smiles._

_“Bye, Liam.”_

_That night, Zayn lay in his childhood bed, crying like he was a kid again as he mentally replayed the ease in which Grant and Liam could express their sexuality. He wanted to be the one Karen and Geoff smiled at while he talked to Liam. He wanted them to suggest to their son that Zayn might be his soul mate. But Zayn was a coward, and he could never do that._

_A few miles away, Liam cried wondering why Zayn didn’t want to be that person for him._

Zayn’s lungs were burning and his calves were on fire. He missed this. It was hard, on tour, to complete his morning exercises everyday and Zayn felt and saw the change. He felt tired and gross. His body was in the strange middle of being skinny and toned, but having slacked on his workouts for too long. Liam, somehow, always seemed to keep the same body no matter how much he did or didn’t exercise. If Zayn didn’t like him so much, he would probably hate him.

            “There you are!”

            From reading his lips, Zayn thought that was along the lines of what Liam said as he entered the hotel’s gym. Giving his boyfriend a small smile, Zayn took his earphones out and turned the treadmill down from eight to four.

            “Good morning,” he said.

            “‘Morning,” Liam replied. “You scared me to death. I couldn’t find you anywhere and you weren’t answering your phone.”

            “Sorry, didn’t notice you called,” Zayn said. “I didn’t think you would be awake yet.”

            “I had to pee,” Liam explained. “Why are _you_ up this early?”

            “Couldn’t sleep. Thought a run might help.”

            Liam nodded, understanding. Zayn didn’t miss him attempting to casually glance at the distance and calorie reader on the treadmill.

            “You almost done?” Liam asked.

            “I dunno. I feel good right now. Really good.”

            Liam gave him an apprehensive look, but Zayn simply smiled again, turning the treadmill back up to six.

            “Alright, love,” Liam said, and yawned. “I’m going back to sleep.”

            “See you soon,” Zayn promised. With a sleepy smile, Liam headed off again, blowing Zayn a kiss before exiting the room.

            Thirty minutes later, Zayn felt as if he might collapse if he tried to carry on, so he turned off the treadmill and, after doing a couple workouts on the arm and ab machines, he ventured on wobbly legs to Liam’s room, where he had stayed throughout the night. Liam was in bed, but either hadn’t fallen back to sleep or had woken up again already, because he was texting someone when Zayn entered.

            “Have a good workout?” he asked Zayn.

            “Yeah, I did.”

            “Coming back to bed?”

            “Maybe after I shower.”

            In his haste to get the sweat and grime off his body, Zayn had forgotten to take clothes into the bathroom to change into, so he walked back into the room with a towel tied loosely around his middle. Unfortunately, Liam was not in the room to see the show, but no matter. Zayn dropped the towel on the ground and climbed into bed, putting only the thinnest sheet over top of his body.

            Liam returned only a couple minutes later, bringing breakfast food along with him. He smiled when he saw Zayn, wet hair and shirtless, sitting up in bed.

            “Hungry?” Liam asked.

            “Not really,” Zayn said, but took a banana from Liam and began eating it anyway.

            “My family is going to be at the show tonight,” Liam told the other after taking a bite of waffle and swallowing it. “Hope that’s okay.”

            “Why wouldn’t it be?” Zayn asked, his eyebrows pulling together as he tried to make sense of Liam’s last statement.  “Your family is cool and even if I didn’t think so, they’re still your family.”

            Liam shrugged, seeming to feel a little awkward.

            “They said you can join us for the holidays if you want to,” he said.

            “Do _you_ want me to?” Zayn asked.

            “Of course!” Liam said, giving off an air of mild offense that Zayn even had to question that.

            “Just checking,” Zayn said. “You’re acting a little…odd.”

            “Sorry.  But of course I want you to join us. I just…”

            Liam paused, took a deep breath, and continued.

            “I can’t believe your family hasn’t come around yet. It pisses me off, even if I don’t have the right to feel that way. You’re their son-their brother-and you’ve worked so hard and come such a long way. They should be proud.”

            Zayn almost reminded Liam that two of his sisters had messaged him, but that had been months ago, and Zayn was beginning to question whether it had even been them at all. Maybe some fan had faked it all as a sick joke.

            “I guess you’re my family now,” Zayn said, and that caused Liam to smile.

            “I like that,” he said, and gave Zayn a kiss.

            It had been three weeks since Halloween, and Benji had still been acting strange, in Zayn’s opinion. He often caught him staring at him, and he would smile, unaffected, upon realizing he was busted. Benji would touch Zayn’s back while passing by him before a show and tell him how good he looked nearly every night. Still, it was all relatively harmless, so Zayn didn’t bother mentioning it to anyone again.

            Zayn and Liam went to a late lunch (or maybe an early dinner) with the Paynes once they landed and the cab Liam had ordered for them took them to the hotel to drop off their luggage. When they saw the boys, each member of the family took turns hugging both. As Ruth hugged Zayn, she said,

            “I can’t believe you let me flirt with you all of those years only to end up with my brother!”

            With a laugh, Zayn said,

            “Sorry. It wasn’t personal. You just don’t have the right downstairs equipment.”

            “You could have just told me that!” Ruth said, the anger in her voice clearly a put on since she was smiling as she pulled away from Zayn. “I just thought I was too ugly for you.”

            “That wasn’t the case at all,” Zayn said.

            “Obviously, since you’re dating Liam,” Ruth teased.

            “Rude,” said Liam.

            At lunch, Zayn was pleased to find that Liam’s family smiled at the two of them while they talked, joked, and stole bites of food from each other.

            _Take that, Grant_ , Zayn thought, even though Liam hadn’t seen Grant in over a year.

While they ate, Karen asked Zayn if Liam had invited him to join them for the holidays yet. Zayn told her that he had but that he didn’t want to intrude on family time. It was then that they all assured Zayn he was family too and they would love for him to join. Naturally, Zayn agreed.

            Zayn’s nerves were a bit worse that night, as they always were when family was in the audience. However, he fell into his routine quickly, and upon noticing Ruth staring at him, he winked and did a special hip move just for her. Unappreciative, Ruth flipped him off, and Zayn laughed in the middle of one of his songs. This was the first time in a while that he’d had a performance high, and he was enjoying the feeling of being so light on his feet, his head up in the clouds.

            But, of course, Zayn never could hold onto good feelings for too long.

            It happened during one of his many songs about sex. Zayn was at the front of the stage, imagining Liam slowly taking off his shirt with that smirk he often gave Zayn before he erupted into giggles and kissed him (the inspiration for the song.) Long ago Zayn had mastered the art of not being noticeably turned on while he sang about watching Liam ‘take it off’ and played that visual in his head, so he didn’t feel _that_ weird about singing it in front of his boyfriend’s family. Besides, it was one of his first songs, so they likely didn’t know that it was about their son and brother.

            The song almost over, Zayn turned so that he could finish the last chorus closer to his dancers, as the choreography called for, and he startled when he saw Benji right behind him. The dancer gave him the same smile he always wore when Zayn caught him staring and, before Zayn could make heads or tails of what was happening, the other pulled him forward by the arms and kissed him, hard, on the mouth. The microphone fell from Zayn’s hand and he stood, frozen in place, almost forgetting where he was or what he was supposed to be doing.

            Zayn could hear the audience making a racket, though he couldn’t tell if they were cheering, booing, or something else behind the ringing in his ears (though he did think he heard Nicola yell some curse words at Benji.) It seemed like a whole lifetime later that Benji was being dragged offstage by a tour manager while Zayn was led gently off by Liam.

            “Liam, I…I didn’t know he was going to do that…I…”

            “I know, babe,” Liam said. Zayn could see the rage he was barely managing to hide, and tears welled in his eyes.

            “Don’t be mad at me. I didn’t know, Liam. I didn’t know!”

            “Mad at _you_? Love, I’m not mad at you.”

            Now in Zayn’s dressing room, Liam pulled his boyfriend close against him and kissed the top of his head. Zayn noticed his heart beating abnormally fast.

            “I’m sorry,” Liam said. “I should have listened to you when you said he was being strange. I’m sorry, love.”

            “It’s not your fault,” Zayn said, squeezing his eyes shut, but a couple of tears managed to sneak out and down his cheeks anyway.

            Soon, the tour manager that had escorted Benji from the stage joined Liam and Zayn in the dressing room.

            “Zayn, I am so sorry,” he said, though it sounded like he was apologizing more out of a formality than anything. “I’ve made sure nothing of that sort will happen again.”

            “O-okay,” Zayn replied, while Liam said,

            “Are you letting that asshole go back onstage?!”

            “Well…the show must go on, Liam. Right, Zayn?”

            “Y-yeah.”

            “‘Atta boy! If you’re ready then, your fans are eagerly waiting.”

            “Can I…Can I pee first?”

            “Sure. Go ahead.”

            Without a backward glance at Liam, Zayn hurried to the bathroom. He didn’t have to use the toilet, of course, but instead scrubbed his arms, neck, face, and lips until the tour manager began knocking on the bathroom door asking if he was alright and if he could kindly hurry it along.

            “You don’t have to do this, Zayn,” Liam whispered in his ear as Zayn’s makeup artist quickly touched up his face. ( _“Seriously, **what** did you do in there?” she had asked)._

“I’m okay,” Zayn said, trying to force a smile, but he felt as if he may have succeeded in a grimace instead.

            “I think you’re in shock,” Liam said.

            “I’m okay,” Zayn repeated, and went back onstage, somehow managing to sound like his normal self when he apologized to his fans for the delay. He pointedly refused to make eye contact with Liam’s family for the rest of the night.

            Zayn and the Paynes had made plans earlier to go out after the show, but Zayn told Liam he wasn’t feeling well and that he was just going to go to bed. Liam, of course, tried to convince Zayn to let him stay with him, and his family gave their assurances that they didn’t mind postponing their plans, but Zayn was headstrong and insisted they still go out.

            Alone, sitting on his bed, staring at the wall, Zayn barely noticed when he received a text. After about a minute, he finally figured out how to move again and took out his phone to read what had been sent to him.

            _This is Benji,_ said the first text, and it was quickly followed by another.

            _Martin told me you wanted me to do that. He told me you fancied me but that you were just playing hard to get as a show. He said you’d asked if I could kiss you onstage to give you an easy way out of your relationship._

Zayn had barely registered what that message was truly saying when he received another; this time from Martin himself. Against his better judgement, he opened the message with shaky fingers. Attached to the message was a picture of the kiss.

            _Dirty boy_ , Martin had said. _How could you do this to Liam?_

            Rage, fear, guilt, shame, and pain made the room around Zayn spin, and he didn’t remember throwing his phone, but he heard the crack as it hit the wall and the phone case popped off, split down the middle. He didn’t care. He wanted to break more. He wanted to destroy the room. He wanted to rip down the curtains, kick a hole through the wall, smash the TV, and rip the phone from its cord before tossing it off the balcony. But that would be a lot of money and news stories that Zayn did not want to face, so instead, he grabbed the complimentary bottle of wine the hotel had given him, popped the cork, and sat in the shower, fully clothed, with the scorching hot water beating down and turning the areas of exposed skin red. Zayn laid there, burning and drinking and not crying because he was not _that_ pathetic.

            He drank the wine as if it were water and he’d been stranded in the desert for days. His vision soon grew blurry, his head swimmy, and it made him sick, which displeased him because he needed the wine coursing through his blood, helping him forget this day. Why was his body expelling something that was making him feel better?

            After getting sick, Zayn stripped his wet clothes off and changed his shower to a bath. As the tub filled up, he stumbled his way back to the bedroom and grabbed another bottle of wine. He would have to pay for this one but that was okay. Zayn had plenty of money, which was about the only positive thing that could be said for him.

            Once the tub was filled almost to the brim with hot water, Zayn got inside, leaning against the back with his wine bottle cradled in his arms. His eyes were growing heavy and Zayn wondered if he was going to fall asleep. If so, would he slip underneath the water? Zayn had never been suicidal, though he did often take comfort in the knowledge that life was temporary and one day, nothing that happened to him would matter anymore. Nothing he’d done, good or bad, would matter. He wouldn’t matter. The world would forget him, and he would forget the world.

            Zayn thought he would be okay with falling asleep and slipping under the water.

            He’d only taken a couple drinks from his wine when he felt the bottle slip from his hands. He wanted to be angry about it, but he couldn’t even muster the energy to open his eyes, so all emotion was evading him. He’d missed this. He’d missed it so much.

            Behind his closed eyelids, pictures danced before Zayn. He saw Liam at his funeral, in too much grief to be mad at him anymore. He saw his own parents, devastated that they had treated Zayn so poorly during his last year on Earth. He saw Martin being taken away by police while being booed by his fans. And then he saw nothing.

 

            “Jesus Christ, Zayn!”

            Zayn gasped as he was lifted from the water by strong arms. Though he was seeing quadruple of everything, he was coherent enough to be aware that it was Liam who pulled him from the tub. He shivered as the air hit his wet, naked body, and then threw up, Liam situating him in front of the toilet just in time. If it weren’t for Liam keeping a hold of him, Zayn knew he would fall head first in the toilet and drown in a mixture of toilet water and vomit, and he was aware that this was probably the lowest point of his life, but he was still too drunk to care.

            Once he had finished expelling more of the wine, Liam helped him wipe his face and flush the toilet before drying Zayn off with a towel and carrying him to bed.

            “S-sorry,” Zayn managed to mumble. “Don’ b-be m-mad.”

            “I’m not mad, Z, I’m scared,” Liam said.

            “Don’ be.”

            “I knew I should have stayed with you. Fuck.”

            “N-not your…f-faul…fault.”

            Liam laid Zayn in the bed and dressed his limp body. Zayn thought he felt him kiss his forehead before he laid next to him and pulled him close, gently rubbing circles into Zayn’s back. Feeling more comforted by the touch than he ever had been by wine, Zayn closed his eyes again and concentrated on Liam’s breathing, his heartbeat, his touch, his smell…and he wondered how he’d ended up in a place as comfortable as this.

            Zayn felt Liam kiss him on the head again and then heard someone say, “I love you.”

            In his drunken state, it took him way too long to realize that someone had to be Liam and he had to have been talking to Zayn, as they were the only two in the room.

            “Wha-?” Zayn asked, raising his tired head for just a moment before collapsing back onto the pillow.

            “Um…huh?” Liam asked, blinking once, twice, three times slowly. “I thought you were asleep.”

            “Felt like I was gonna puke,” Zayn answered honestly.

            “Well there’s a trashcan by the bed,” Liam told him.

            “What did you just say?”

            “There’s a trashcan by-”

            “Not that,” Zayn interrupted. “Before that.”

            “I didn’t say anything.”

            “Yeah, you did.”

            “Okay,” Liam said after a moment. “I said ‘I love you.’”

            Zayn contemplated those words for a long while. ‘I love you’ could be used in many different contexts. Liam could have meant like a friend, like a brother…

Okay, maybe not like a brother, given their history, but Zayn could not, for the life of him, fathom how someone who had just pulled him drunk from the bathtub and held him upright while he puked could even think of saying ‘I love you’ in an intimate way.

            Of course, even Zayn had to admit that it probably took some form of love for a person to do those things for another in the first place.

            Despite everything, Zayn laughed.

            “You need psy-a…psy-a-logal help,” he informed the other.

            “Psychological help?” Liam asked, giving a small laugh even considering his obvious worry.

            “Yeah.”

            “Maybe,” he admitted. “But why do you say that?”

            “‘Oo said you loved me when I jus’ threw up and I’m not even sure I made it in the righ’ toilet.

            “Well, there was only one toilet, Zayn,” Liam said, brushing a strand of damp hair from Zayn’s forehead.

            “I saw four.”

            “I wasn’t aware getting sick meant you were unworthy of love.”

            “Yes. Dirty,” Zayn said, though he no longer understood where this conversation was going. His breath caught in his throat when he remembered that Liam had just told him he loved him.

            “You said you love me…tha’s silly.”

            “You’re silly,” Liam told him.

            “Yeah,” Zayn agreed.

            “I do love you, though,” Liam said. “Even when I have to keep you from falling headfirst into a toilet.”

            “Tha’ would have been bad,” Zayn admitted.

            “Mhm,” Liam said, He continued to rub circles in Zayn’s back.

            “I don’ wanna say it when I’m naus-ated.”

            “You don’t have to say it.”

            “‘Kay. But me too.”

            “You too?”

            “Mhm.”

            “I’ll take that.”

            “Good.”

            “Good. Glad that’s settled. Now go to sleep, love. You’re about to have a hell of a morning.”

            “I have a hell of a life,” Zayn said, sighing dramatically and gagging slightly in the process.

            “Yeah? Something you want to tell me about?”

            “No, cuz then you won’ love me anymore.”

            “That’s not true.”

            “Is. Had a dream ‘bout it.”

            “Dreams aren’t real, Zaynie. You can tell me anything.”

            Zayn thought about it, but decided it were best to keep his mouth shut, for multiple reasons.

            “Maybe in the morn,” he said quickly.

            “Alright. Maybe then,” Liam said, and Zayn was unconscious less than thirty seconds later.

           

             

**Author's Note:**

> I am not going to promise when I will have the second chapter up, but it should be no later than a week :)


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